


Brother Take My Hand

by TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Shifters), (unrequited Jess/Sam), AU, Action, Background Romance, Characters are unreliable narrators, Creature!Sam, Demons, Drama, Dystopian, Future, Injustice, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Non Con - attempted non con, Open Relationships, Post Apocalypse, Prejudice, Racism, Skinwalkers - Freeform, Slavery, Social Commentary, Social Injustice, Underage - Late teen sexual activity - sam is 17 at the start of the fic, Wolves, alternating povs, animal sex, canon adjacent, canon level violence and gore, casual / recreational sex, creature!dean, established Sam/Dean - Freeform, full wolf-shifted anal sex, heats and ruts but not ABO, magical roofies, morality is a social construct discuss, natural style wolves, non con Ruby/Sam, not a/b/o, plot tension, resisting social norms, sam’s psychic powers, sentient animal sex (Sam and Dean are wolves), sex isn’t taboo, some mentioned violence and gore, story looks at the character emotional reactions rather than detailed physical whump, they do have heats and ruts though, unlearning learnt behaviour, wolf oral sex, yellow eyed demon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24091714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen/pseuds/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen
Summary: All Sam has ever known is Yellow Eyes’ rule and life within the Pack, but he is sure there has to be more.The young wolf questions everything he’s been taught. Why is he the only one fascinated by old ruins? Is human nature really so evil that it justifies using other creatures as slaves? And why can no one else see the benefits of using hands?Dean loves Sam but he doesn’t have any answers. In fact he wishes Sam didn’t have so many questions.On the summer equinox fate will force Sam to make some choices and Yellow Eyes is already showing far too much interest in him. So what will the young wolf do when he has to choose between the Pack and his conscience?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 28
Kudos: 14
Collections: SPN Dystopia Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Art for this story was made by the wonderful [MissJenniferB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missjenniferb/works) you can find more of her art here: [Jennifer B on Istagram](https://www.instagram.com/jenniferb_artist/?hl=en)  
> Click[ HERE ](https://jenniferb-art.tumblr.com/post/617708032966770688/new-session-archive-of)to see the art post for this story and be sure to leave her some love for all the hard work she put into these beautiful hand drawn pictures 💛😄.
> 
> A very special thank you to my wonderful and extremely patient Beta Wendibird for sticking with me even as this story grew in length - and despite countless re-writes! I cant express how grateful I am for the assistance. (Thank you my friend!💛🤗). If you enjoy reading this you can probably thank Wendbird for wrangling my sentence structure into order! Please check out her amazing fics on AO3: [Sumira79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumira79/pseuds/Sumira79/works), and/or go give some love on tumblr: [wendibird](https://wendibird.tumblr.com/).  
> Any remaining mistakes in this story are mine and mine alone.
> 
> And I must also include a shout out to my dear friend [fogsrollingin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fogsrollingin/pseuds/fogsrollingin/works) for cheer leading, sound-boarding, moral support (so much moral support) and encouraging me to stick with it. Thank you my friend. 💛🤗 
> 
> Finally (to end this Oscar acceptance speech) a big thank you also to the hardworking mods of the Spn Dystopian Bang for their dedication and for hosting such an enjoyable bang.💛
> 
> And if you are still reading, a big thank you to you! 😁 I hope you enjoy the story!  
> 

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 1**

_“What are you doing?!”_ The words tore out of him rumbling like thunder. He’d aimed for ‘concerned’ but his body language screamed anger; his head jerking back, shoulder muscles wound in an over-tight coil of unease...

The morning had been one frantic search of the tangled woods, looking high and low for the wayward sibling in question. Dean had been balanced precariously on the precipice between panic and utter frustration until at last he had spotted a familiar flash of chestnut peeking from behind a pile of rocks. 

Any relief Dean might have experienced was short lived though. He had expected to find Sam, he hadn’t expected to find him like this.

The abrupt accusation had caused the startled younger brother to jump to his feet. The boy appearing from behind an innocent looking pile of stones with a less-than-innocent look on his face. 

Disheveled chestnut hair stuck up in unruly strands on top of his head, a sheen of sweat bathing his skin causing him to glow in the afternoon sun. But beneath brown locks a red flush stained the boy’s cheeks, color that was rapidly covering the rest of his face and heading towards his ears. 

Tri-colored sunflower eyes were wide in shock and a mouth graced by firm pink lips was working soundlessly - like a fish scoured from the river to flounder on the bank. 

If a face had ever screamed guilty then it was this one. 

Sam was mostly still hidden behind the stones but one bare arm rose and flitted jerkily in Dean’s direction as he tried to find the words to explain himself. Each gesture was aborted before it was completed though, the kid was clearly floundering.

Normally duty bound as the oldest, Dean would have smirked at the ridiculous stuttering, instead he was frozen in disgust - watching enthralled as one emotion after another crossed Sam’s face. It was physically possible to see the arguments turning in Sam’s mind; the way he formulated then discarded every explanation before coming to the conclusion that he was screwed.

Nothing filled the air but the distant sounds of birds and the rustle of leaves, as for long moments the two brothers’ eyes remained locked. It must have felt like an eternity to the youngster. Eventually though something had to give and a worried V formed between Sam’s brows as he dropped his hands. Pale shoulders hunching, the kid gave up on salvaging the situation. 

Dean couldn’t help the little flair of guilt he had at that reaction. Sam’s look of dejection prompted a nagging in the back of Dean’s mind telling him to go easy on the youngster. But he was nothing if not stubborn. Jaw clenching tight enough to make his teeth hurt, he ignored the small voice. 

The whole morning had been nothing but worry and now that he found Sam, _this_ was what he found?? No fucking way Sam was getting off lightly just by pulling a sorry puppy routine.

“What the fuck Sam? What the actual fuck? It's forbidden and you know it! What would you have done if you’d been caught, huh?!” Teeth bared in a grimace Dean watched that horrific scenario play out in his mind - the thought alone filling him with a gut-rolling fear.

Sam narrowed his eyes in a scowl. He had the unique ability to switch emotions between one heartbeat and the next. Apparently being caught in the act wasn’t enough to stop him getting pissed at a well-deserved telling off.

Hackles up, the kid went from guilt into rage in the blink of an eye. 

Dean wasn’t really surprised, nothing worked Sam up like being told what he could and couldn’t do, but was he seriously going to defend _this_?! 

Apparently he was.

“How exactly Dean, am I going to get caught?” the brat whisper-shouted before throwing back his head and howling his words into the sky. “This is the middle of fucking nowhere!” 

Dean started. Violently. His head swivelling on his neck as he hastily scanned the surrounding trees - peering past rocks and leaves and thick green brambles. Alert for any movement or sound. 

A crash of wings and broken branches showed that a nearby crow had taken offence, but nothing else stirred except the wind.

Dean breathed a shaky sigh of relief but his heart pounded like a herd of stampeding deer. Thankfully for his nerves, Sam’s next sentence was a more normal volume if no less vehement. “I’m not stupid Dean.”

“Well, seems to me like you are.” Turning from interrogating the empty woodlands, Dean spat the words and stalked towards his little brother. Unfortunately this gave him a better view of the naked boy. 

Sam’s coltish arms and legs showed newly built lines of muscle but he looked like a bald chicken, crouched awkwardly on his haunches in the sorry stone hole. He also returned to looking guilty as he was put on display.

Lip curling, Dean scowled (he’s been doing that a lot recently, if he wasn’t careful his face was gonna stick that way). “Why Sam?!”

Either because of the question, or his brother’s tone, Sam decided that ‘mulishness’ would be an improvement over ‘guilt’. However he added a good dose of ‘earnestness’ because apparently the two emotions were not a contradiction. 

“Why not Dean?!” Sam raised a hesitant but entreating hand, even as his chin lifted in stubborn defiance.

Eying the offered hand like it would bite, Dean refused to give an inch. “It’s not natural Sammy.”

“Of course it is!”

“No Sam, it’s not!” Why Sam always had to poke at everything was a mystery. He knew the Law. 

There was right and there was wrong. Good and Evil. That was the way of the world. Denying facts would not change them. For all his intelligence Sam could be willfully blind when he wanted to. Like now.

Sam scowled, again. “Why make us able to do something, if we aren’t supposed to do it?! It’s like being given teeth but then being told not to bite,” the kid insisted, as if - if he just argued long enough - day could be dark and night could be light.

Dean had had enough. He huffed, long and more than a little exasperated. How many times could he explain the same argument? “Sammy, you know the stories. I’ve told ‘em all to you again and again. Just like John told us when we were small.

“Men were evil. They corrupted everything they touched. They almost destroyed the entire fucking world. What more proof do you need Sam?! It’s on us to show The Lord of The Morning that we can do better, can resist temptation. If we can't, the Lord will return and destroy us the same as He did them.

“You KNOW this stuff, I shouldn’t have to say it.”

With nothing more to be said, and determined to put an end to this matter, the wolf carefully padded across the rocky tumble that still separated him from his brother. Sam had dropped his hand, head now hanging low between hairless shoulders, arms tight around a long slim waist. 

Dean might have gone too hard on Sam but the kid’s dejection was probably from Dean’s disappointment rather than any real sense of wrongdoing. 

_Still_ , the wolf thought, _if it gets the point across, I will take what I can get. He CAN’T do this again._

Deciding to be magnanimous the large golden wolf smothered down a shudder and gingerly laid his muzzle over the boy’s disgusting shoulder. (Why would any creature want to run around without fur anyway?!) He huffed into the chestnut hair, which thankfully still smelled like Sam, showing the kid that he would forgive him. (Eventually. Mostly.)

Softening his gruffness as best he could Dean offered an olive branch. “Come on, turn yerself back and stop the craziness.” 

Sam nodded, the movement more felt than seen, and the wolf relaxed. But Dean made sure his next thought was firm. “And don’t do this again Sammy, I mean it. If you carry on like this you’re gonna get us both Shunned or killed.”

—o0o—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-  
>  _“No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background or his religion. People learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” – Nelson Mandela_


	2. Chapter 2

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 2**

_Several years previous to the current day_

“Will you tell us again about the old world John?” the pup asked curling sleepily into the warm furred side of the older wolf. His voice in John’s mind was young and jumbled, the word sounds accompanied by messy images and half formed pictures - however his small nudges into the older wolf’s shoulder and his plaintive whines were sweetly pleading in the irresistible manner of puppies.

“You’ve heard those stories a hundred times,” snipped his older brother biting playfully at the little chestnut pup’s ears.

“Dean leave your brother alone,” John whuffed. There was no heat in tone. 

John’s bright amber eyes glinted in the low evening light shining through the trees of the clearing. The golden glow gave the little circle a private, peaceful feel and the three wolves were content to laze in the cool autumn grasses as if they were the only creatures in the world. 

“Don't mind, anyhow.” The large old wolf yawned, his huge jaws creaking, before he flicked his ears to shake off his tiredness. “You pups settle down and I’ll tell it again.”

Dean pretended to grumble at being included as a ‘pup’ but was quick to curl himself around his little brother as they both snuggled up against the warm shaggy fur of John’s side. 

The quiet drone of insects sounded through the thick green grass, as fragrant breeze drifted lazily about them and their sire’s warm mellow tones filled their minds.

“Long, long ago the world as we know it was a very different place….

“The world was once ruled by men, who by their nature were wicked and cruel. They didn't care for Pack or Family or for the earth around them. They looked out only for themselves as individuals. 

“In those days humans built huge stone dens to live in, but these dens took up large amounts of space and they had to cut down whole forests to clear the way. The world then looked very different.

“Men didn’t have magic, they were not strong like we are, instead they made Artifacts to do their work for them, and because their legs were weak they made huge metal beasts to carry them around. 

“But these Artifacts and metal beasts were unnatural. They poisoned both the air and the land. The waters around the Men’s dens became undrinkable and soon there wasn’t clean food to eat. They chose not to notice.

“Mankind was blood thirsty too. A war-driven race, they spent all their time fighting. Lacking sharp claws and teeth like us though, they made Weapons; Artifacts which captured lightning and turned it against another. They were terrible things. Weapons could kill thousands at a once. It was a very evil time. Thank the Lord of the Morning you will never see it’s like!

“But Men thought themselves safe, Lords of everything they saw, they cared nothing for the destruction they caused. Of course we know now that they were wrong and soon the whole world was filled with nothing but death and suffering. 

“Now the gods of the old world were just as bad. They constantly fought and warred among themselves. 

“The greatest of these old gods was the Lord of The Morning’s Sire - The Great God. He was the Alpha of all Alphas, but he was no true Pack Leader. He didn’t love his pack, not really. All that concerned him was his own amusement and well being. When mankind became destructive he just turned away saying that it wasn’t his problem.

“Now our Lord of The Morning argued long and bitterly with his sire. The Lord decried the senseless destruction of this bright earth, speaking up for the animals and for all monster-kind who lived in the shadows. But the Great God would not be reasoned with. 

“Finally the great god Shunned his own pup. 

“For the sin of caring too much, our Lord was cast into a terrible dark pit and imprisoned there for thousands of years. All alone and abandoned he wept for our plight.

“And with no one to control the ambitions of men, the world failed. It was dying. 

“After many years, the suffering of all things became so great that it reached our Lord in his prison. Unable to bear such terrible heartache one moment longer, he broke free and rose up to the world. He did the only thing he could to save us, he declared war on the Great God.

“The battle that ensued was long and bitter. Millions were killed, but the Lord never stopped fighting for us, even though the other children of the Great God (who men called Angels) fought for their sire.

“The Lord of The Morning loved his brothers, just like we love our Pack. He didn’t want to fight them but he also refused to abandon us to death. 

“He had no other choice but to slay them all and finally his sire Himself. This was the sacrifice the Lord of The Morning made for us.”

[“He had to kill his brothers” Sam interjected, “I could _never_ do that” the pup gazed at his sibling, eyes filled with adoration. Sam had recently decided that Dean was the greatest wolf in the whole wide world and worshiped his every action.

“Well you wouldn't have to, would ya?!” Dean’s grin was toothy, his tongue lolling from his jaws, “I’d _never_ fight against my brother or let _anyone_ else hurt him! But I’m awesome like that. Now shut up and listen to the story. You were the one begging John to tell it.”

John ignored them both - well used to interruptions…]

“However, even with the Great God and his Angels defeated, Mankind was still stubborn and set in their ways. They refused to tear down their stone dens or cease their lightning wars. They would not accept the better world our Lord offered. And though he pleaded with them they did not listen.

“In the end the Lord wiped out all of mankind as well, and everything they had tainted with their touch. Even some monsters and demon-kind had been so infected by humanity's plague that the Lord of The Morning was forced to purge them too. 

“There were once monsters who were closely bound to human culture; monsters like Shifters, Ghouls and Rugaru. Now none of these remain. We must never forget that just because we are monsters we are not immune to evil.

“Finally with the terrible influence of Mankind gone the world entered into a golden age of peace. The poison cleared from the air. The trees began to grow and the animal life flourished. 

“Monster-kind rose from the shadows and took our rightful place in the world. 

“Our Lord decreed that no other world should bear such a terrible fate and he left to bring peace to any other worlds which were suffering. But he left this new world in our care. 

“The wise Council of Monsters came together to ensure that we would live up to Our Lord's trust. It was made up of representatives from all who run or crawl, fly or swim. They established new laws that would prevent evil from ever destroying our world again.”

John turned his head to look his pups in the eyes, as the tale finished with its customary warning.

“We Skinwalkers especially must take heed of our animal natures and always uphold the values of Pack and family and strength in unity. No one wolf is ever more valuable than the whole Pack and only by staying together as one and obeying the laws can we stay strong. We bear the taint of mankind hidden inside our skins and we must always be vigilant against it.

“If we follow the laws and do our best to honor the ways of the Lord of The Morning then all will be well. But if we ever forget the new ways and fall into the old ways of Men - then the Lord will be forced to return and he would have no option but to destroy us all.”

—o0o—

Sam was drowsy by the story’s end but Dean knew he was still analyzing every line. So of course, sleepy or not, the little pup had a question. He was Sam, after all.

“Weren't there any good men at all?”

John answered before Dean could berate his little brother. “No Sam, some of them might have believed that they were good, but they were evil. It was just their nature to be wicked and cruel.” 

“But not every single thing that they made was bad? Some of it is very pretty.”

John turned sharply to the youngster at his side. “You been exploring the ruins again Sam?” 

Sam hung his head and flattened his ears in apology. Dean just rolled his eyes. His little brother spent most of his time getting into trouble.

“Sam, nothing good can come from anything touched by man. There is a reason why the ruins are forbidden. The things they made are dangerous. They can kill you just by touching you. Anything pretty is probably a trap to lure you in. Stay away from the Ruins Sam, I mean it! Stay away from the things of Men.”

Sam lowered his head to his paws, ears flattened right down, shoulders hunched. The eyes he directed towards his Sire held all of the sorrow in the world.

He made a particularly pitiful sight and the older wolf was placated.

John licked roughly over Sam’s little ears before giving Dean’s nose a small bump to show he wasn’t mad. “Now sleep both of you, it’s late.” To emphasize this final word John closed his own eyes and laid his muzzle down on his paws. 

Young Sam, warmly sandwiched between his brother and his sire, snuggled deeper into soft fur that carried the scents of family and pack and closed his eyes.

Dean didn’t close his eyes just yet - in the growing dark the adolescent wolf was deep in thought.

Fireflies came out to play in the rich black velvet as he watched his little brother slip into dreams, his tiny paws twitching. John might have been satisfied but Dean noticed Sam hadn't actually agreed to stay away from the things of men. He had just turned on those Lord Cursed puppy eyes. The sneaky little pup was learning to use those things with more skill than the deadliest of claws. 

But Dean also knew his brother better than anyone else. Young though he may be, Sam never let go of anything that easily.

—o0o—

As a sire and his pups slept peacefully in the Pack Grounds, Yellow Eyes paced sedately as he and his entourage arrived at the annual meeting of the Council of Monsters. 

The Council had assembled on the wide plateau marking the boundary between the mountains and the coast. 

Above them massive stone peaks dominated the skyline in harsh jagged spears, the formidable range only inhabited by creatures who flew. 

Below, stretching west down to the ocean, spread the rolling forests that the Wolves called home. 

The outcropping was a neutral location.

The night air lay heavy with the scents of autumn; the ripeness of fallen fruits starting to decay, the rich smell of damp earth covered in orange and brown leaves. In the darkness the last of the day’s warmth rose from the land and a bite of cold wind blew down from the mountains, snow whispering it was not far off.

This was a world no longer lit by fire but the glow of the moon gave enough light for a monster to see clearly as day. The pale moonlight now shone upon representatives of every monster group within a 7 day run, crawl or flight. And Yellow Eyes, who lived the closest, was late. Purposely. He was nothing if not ambitious.

The wolf stalked into the circle as if they had been waiting for him, causal arrogance in every line as he thanked them all for coming.

This, not surprisingly, caused a loud gurgle of displeasure from the Kraken. 

As the largest of the Pure-Natured Monsters, the Sea Creature considered itself the unofficial leader - despite being bound to water for anything but short periods. He had to expend huge quantities of magic just to attend the mountain-top meeting and was sure to end his grumble at Yellow Eyes’ high handedness, with his customary complaint that council meetings should be held on the coast.

The Wyverns also complained. They were more than happy with the meeting location but found the Wolf arrogant and offensive. Their leader believed rulership of the air made her supreme. Despite not being of any great size she argued loudly, and at great lengths, about the benefits of flight and the advantages it should afford her. 

As the Wyvern spoke the Dragons muttered quietly. In the old world Wyvern had been inferior to Dragons - who were much greater in size - but of course the Dragons couldn’t object too loudly because this was _not_ the old world. They didn't want to draw attention to themselves and their dual-human natures. 

Standard hierarchy placed Pure-Natured monsters, those like Wyvern who only had animal shapes, above the Dual-Natured; those poor monsters cursed with a second human shape. Lord of the Morning forbid you should be born to a Human-Natured group, those unfortunate wretches cursed with only a human form - they had little standing, barely considered monsters at all. Size and ability came secondary to purity. 

These days Dragons wore only their animal forms, great winged beasts that should rule the skies. But all remembered that they carried hidden inside their skins a second human shape. It lowered their standing and made them bitter.

The Werewolves, Vampires and Kitsunes who had attended the meeting, of course offered no opinion of Yellow Eye’s behavior. They kept themselves small and silent. As was right.

The wolf barely spared a glance for the filthy human-shaped vermin. They kept to the rear, encircled by a ring of space as if their mere touch was contagious. Once proceedings concluded they would be the first to slink away, fully aware that the only thing keeping them alive was the meeting’s truce of safe conduct. But despised as they were for their human-like appearance, the creatures were still monster-kind. They had to attend. They especially had to be seen to be honoring the laws.

Yawning widely, conveniently displaying fearsome fangs, Yellow Eyes dismissed his own musings and spoke over the grumbling and posturing of the other monsters. His thoughts rang with power and authority as he called the meeting to order. 

It was not his place to do so, but he was able to take advantage of the in-bickering between the groups. No single monster group had the power or resources to oppose the wolves, no matter their opinions about the wolves duel-natures. 

The wolves were the fastest runners and the fiercest fighters. They were able to range great distances and use teamwork to take down enemies far larger than themselves. Their magic was also particularly strong - thanks in no small part to Yellow Eyes’ own endeavors. But most importantly of all, while other groups valued selected breeding for purity, for years the Wolf Alpha had been breeding his Pack for quantity.

As Pack Leader of the largest force from the mountains to the coast, he would soon be the only choice not just as Council Leader but as Alpha Alpha. 

Yellow Eyes also had something these other alphas lacked; the will to enact his ambitions.

The minor matter of the Wolves dual-nature was his only hurdle. The pure-natured would band together before they allowed themselves to be ruled by a halfbreed. 

The wolf snarled silently. He refused to be as weak and cowardly as the Dragons. There was nothing human left in the Wolves, they had denied that side of their natures for generations, they might as well be Pure Natured. The tradition of their lower status should hardly still apply. He would find a way to demonstrate this to all monsterkind, forcibly if necessary.

But his plans needed yet more time to grow. For now he would let The Council of Monsters play their games, let them grumble and manoeuvre with the occasional interjection from him to stake his claim. This meeting would be threaded with its usual tensions and pointless bickering before it dissolved with nothing of substance having been resolved. 

But soon, The Lord of The Morning willing, the plan he was formulating would bear fruit. He had the patience and the cunning to play his part until then.

—o0o—


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - wolf oral sex at the end of the chapter

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 3**

_Current year, Early Spring_

Dean woke slowly with Sam’s weight pressed heavy against his side as the other wolf huffed in his sleep, paws twitching as he dreamed.

The sky was lightening from slate grey to steel blue and the breeze blew cool across his nose. It brought the scents of growing things in spring, the common musk of the other wolves that made up the pack, and that individual scent that was just Sam. 

Chasing the sleep-warmed smell of fur, Dean turned his head towards his brother, contentedly watching the snoring wolf.

Sam’s long chestnut coat was beautiful, highlighted with subtle ash markings which crested over the top of his head and down the center of his sharp muzzle. Ash lines framed eyes that when open were an enchanting hazel green flecked with hints of sky and sunrise gold. 

Sam was an incredibly handsome wolf, but still young he had yet to grow into the huge shaggy ruff which curled around his ears and flowed down to his shoulder, an endless source of amusement for Dean. The youngster was on that awkward edge between puppyhood and adulthood, only now starting to fill out his deep chest over his stupidly long legs and giant paws. He would be 18 by the end of spring and was going to be massive when he finished growing. Come mating time he’d have his pick of any bitch he wanted. 

Dean flashed his brother a smarmy grin at that thought - which was wasted because Sam wasn’t awake to appreciate.

Thinking about waking the other just to share the joke, Dean was momentarily distracted by an itch on the top of his head. If Sam had given him fleas again!....

The Wolf shook his golden sandy fur (he had enviable thick sleek fur that darkened to chestnut over his shoulders and down his flanks. The colour beautifully highlighted his forest green eyes - or so he’d been told) Dean moved carefully so as not to wake his brother and crawled a few paces so that he could roll onto his back. 

Wiggling, paws flailing, Dean rubbed the top of his head along the grass, trying to scratch that hard to reach spot right between his ears. Small happy grunts escaped his jaws at the satisfaction of a good scratch… that is until a light wuffing that caused him to pause and crack open one eye. Sam was not only awake but was laughing at him.

Dean rolled back upright, attempting to look nonchalant, like he hadn’t just been caught behaving like a puppy. Grass stained fur stuck up in spikes on top of his head and ruined the innocent air he was going for. 

Sam kept whiffing as he shuffled forwards, throwing one large paw over the back of Dean's neck and pulling him in so he could lick the top of Dean’s head. Of course Dean grumbled, but he noticed with pride how strong Sammy was getting. Soon he would be hard pressed to out-wrestle the wolfling. Maybe. 

“Are you done?!” Being groomed by his little brother was undignified and he made sure that his words hit Sam’s mind with a good dose of how put-upon he was feeling.

Sam didn’t even pause his licking, the stubborn fur didn’t want to lay flat. “Nearly.” The mental image he sent his brother was a full on laugh: a picture of Sam lit by bright sunlight - jaws grinning wide, tongue lolling and eyes soft as he huffed huge breaths in and out of his chest.

The wolfling had a knack for sending pictures with his telepathic communications. The most Dean could manage were feelings with his words. It was another thing Sam had in his favour, strong magic. The thought filled Dean with pride but didn’t stop him answering his little brother with a mock growl. Someone had to keep the pup in his place.

“I heard that,” finally letting up, Sam gave Dean’s ear a nip in parting. “Stop calling me ‘pup’, I’m almost 18 Dean and you are only 4 years older than me.” The younger wolf pulled his classic ‘human-face’, the most constipated expression to ever grace a wolf. Dean really didn’t know how he did it.

“Then stay outta my inner thoughts Sammy.” Dean laughed entirely unrepentant, “...Or I’m gonna spend the rest of the day thinking about sex.”

“Like that would be different how? And it’s Sam, not Sammy.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Come-on lazy bones. The day isn’t getting any younger _Sam_ , and we have hunting to do.”

—o0o—

Sam stalked along the woody trail carefully placing each paw, a predator on the prowl. Slipping between the trees with his movements like the whisper of the wind, he was a silent dapple of color amidst the tawny undergrowth. 

Dean as always, was one step behind him, an equally silent shadow - if shadows were gold - moving in perfect synchronization. As oldest he could have led from the front but he was happiest having his brother where he could see him.

For now Sam and Dean were alone. Brady and Jess weren’t in sight; the two up ahead scouting the trail for fresh scents while Ava and Lily brought up the rear, just on the edge of hearing. 

With the weather warming a herd of deer had migrated across the wider Pack Lands, bringing their young to fresh pastures, and if this hunt went well, Pack bellies would be full today.

Sam was already one of the Pack’s best hunters, he almost had a sixth sense for finding things, yet this morning he appeared distracted, constantly lifting his nose to search the breeze. 

The first few times Dean had followed his lead expecting to smell fresh prey, but all he caught were the old deer tracks they were following north and the cold scents of Brady and Jess. Sam seemed to be picking up something more, eyes flickering east as he sniffed. After keeping this up for a little while the young wolf gave a quiet huff and broke trail. He lowered his head and began to push his way through the brush to the side. 

Dean immediately sent him a question but the answer was a vague mental shrug, Sam didn’t stop. 

Indecision halted the gold wolf’s paws. Hunting was an important duty. Some things were vital to the prosperity of the Pack and food and a safe den were paramount. Pack well-being was one of Dean’s driving concerns, a core part of his personality but beneath that there was everything that he felt for his brother. He got an itch between his shoulder blades anytime Sammy went off alone, as if something terrible might happen if he wasn’t there to protect the wolfling. Maybe he was wrong for feeling this way, but it wasn’t actually much of a choice when he put it like that. Sam or Pack? Lord of The Morning help him, he would choose Sam every time. 

Dean turned, trotting down trail until he came into sight of Ava and Lily. He might be about to recklessly follow Sam on a wild goose chase but that didn’t mean he would be totally irresponsible about it. “Sam might have caught a faint scent but he isn’t sure. Gonna check it out, then catch you up. If you guys stay on after Jess and Brady, we’ll be back before you reach the herd. Shouldn’t take long.”

Lily shook out her ruff, the pale grey wolf giving the equivalent of a shrug, but Ava who got on better with Dean grinned, her tongue lolling out. “Uh Oooo Dean-o,” she sang, “been so long since you got any that you and Sam have to sneak off mid-hunt for a quickie?”

Dean grinned at his friend but the obvious slander deserved a mock growl in reply, “You shut your mouth, Ava, I get plenty! An’ I wouldn’t be sneaking off if I wanted some, you would be invited.” He crouched wiggling his haunches like he was preparing to pounce on his friend. Ava laughed but Lily, as usual, didn’t appreciate his humor; she gave him a hard stare, head high and tail stiff.

“Don’t think Lily is too keen on sharing me, Deano.” Ava began herding her companion down the trail, keen to move the two antagonists apart. “Best go on after Sam before she decides you’re not joking and I have to break up a fight. You two meet us up at Big Rock River if you don’t find anything, okay?” Ava threw the last over her shoulder as the charcoal-and-black wolf pushed her pale furred lover away. And Dean turned with a grin and sauntered after Sam with his tail held at a jaunty angle - just so Lily knew he hadn’t been intimidated. 

It didn’t take him long to catch up with his brother. “Lily and Ava think we are sneaking off to have sex,” he laughed as soon as Sam was in sight.

“Uh huh.” Sam didn't even look up, his nose low to the ground blowing sharp breaths into the leaves to kick up the scents.

The youngster really _was_ distracted. Dean had set him up with the perfect opportunity to whine about how much of a horn dog Dean was and he hadn’t taken the bait. What exactly was he tracking anyway? 

Dean drew breath to yip a query when Sam stopped moving, sniffing hard at one particular patch of earth, his ears pricked high. The wolfling seemed to have found the scent he was looking for because he took off in a determined lope. 

What the fuck?! Dean snapped his fangs shut, narrowly avoiding biting his tongue. The pup was going to be the death of him. Of course he followed him, but he made sure to grumble. Loudly.

Sam came to a stop a few hundred paces later. This patch of woods looked much the same as any other but as Sam scratched at the leaves and mud under-paw he began uncovering stones, and not just any stones, stones with square edges. Dean’s heart sank. “Sam…”

Sam wasn’t listening, between the stones he had unearthed a flat dirty object, too large and thick to be a leaf but still thin and pliable. Below the smell of decaying mulch Dean was now able to scent the faded ‘Birch sap’ smell of the things of men. Apparently that was what Sam had been following. Grudgingly Dean admitted to himself that pup had some nose on him.

Sam wasn’t paying attention to Dean’s grudging respect for his tracking abilities, he was too busy pawing at the thing, moving it around in the muck. “I think it has something to do with human hands Dean. Look. There are five long bits coming off the center and the shape kinda looks like a hand. The werewolf uses its hands loads, they seem much more flexible than paws. I’ve seen it pick stuff up. An’ if you had two hands then you’d be able to hold two different things at the same time. So I guess hands were important in the old days and this was something to do with them… but exactly what, I don’t know…”

Dean was used to Sam’s dumps of vaguely linked information but this time he didn’t even know where to begin his thought process. Was it worse that Sam had been spending time with the filthy Pack slave; or the fact that they were currently messing about with an artifact of the old world? Actually no, that last point definitely won out.

With no further thought, Dean lunged snarling, throwing his shoulder into his brother’s side, knocking them both over and away from the danger. The world spun several times as they rolled before he came to a halt with the bewildered wolfling pinned to the dirt. He got his teeth right up into Sam’s face; “That is old world stuff!” Fear and disgust laced his snarls. “You have no idea what it could do to you! Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?”

Sam blinked his multi-colored eyes in stunned confusion, leaf litter covering his fur, “I don’t think…”

“No, that’s just it! You don’t think! You have no idea what it is or what it does. There is a reason why we don’t touch this stuff Sam. Lord of The Morning! If I’d known this was what you were after I’d have smacked your nose the minute you stepped off the trail!”

Dean’s tone was offensive and Sam was half inclined to snarl back; but right now, with Dean laying full on top of him, he was drowning in Dean’s fear - the feelings the older Wolf didn’t know how to convey with words, he was screaming with his mind. He was convinced the filthy human object would leap up at any moment and murder Sam - and the thought terrified him.

Wanting to reassure his brother, Sam whined low in his throat, licking gently at Dean’s chin, totally ignoring the growls rumbling from between massive fangs. “It’s okay. See?! It's fine. _I’m_ fine. We can leave it.” 

The rumbles died off. Dean was a little surprised that Sam had conceded so fast and so meekly. Then he looked more closely at the young wolf laying pinned in the mud, small leaves and twigs haphazardly stuck in his fur from the roll. He realized that he had body slammed the youngster and snarled in his face. 

Adrenaline fading, Dean began to feel sheepish. “Good. Fine.” Huffing quietly he got up to his paws and allowed Sam to rise.

Deliberately Dean took a few steps away, turned his back on the thing and used his rear paws to kick up leaves until it was once more hidden from sight. Putting the whole thing literally behind himself he quickly started walking back towards the trail.

Sam didn’t give a backwards glance as he scrambled to his paws and hurried to catch up, pushing forward to bump his shoulder against Dean’s and leaning in every few paces to lick at his ear and jaw.

“Stop it.” Dean mumbled.

“You still mad?”

“Yes Sam, I’m still mad about the thing that nearly killed you 10 heartbeats ago.”

Despite Dean’s grumbling, or maybe because of it, a wicked little glint appeared in Sam’s eyes. “I know how to make you feel better.” The image he sent was absolutely filthy and involved wet tongues and hot hard cocks.

Dean stumbled at the unexpected non sequitur, turning in surprise. Sam could change quicker than the weather and the brat was already laughing as if nothing had happened.

“Well you did tell the others we were sneaking off to have sex!” Sam snickered.

“So you were listening!” Dean accused.

“I always listen,” the brat grinned.

“Yeah, well...” Despite his best efforts Dean couldn’t stay mad at the pup, he never could, but a lingering edge of fear still bit at his belly, even if he had over reacted. 

But there was no way he was gonna let Sam think he could be bought so easily by sex, tempting as the offer might be. “Maybe you can owe me one.” He grinned instead. “Come on. Get your paws moving, I told the others that we’d meet them at Big Rock River.”

—o0o—

The hunt went well. By the time the sun was setting the six wolves had run down two large bucks and a couple of fawns. They got first choice of the pickings before starting the heavy task of bringing the kill back to the Pack - and they made sure to eat well because getting the bucks home was by far the hardest part of the task. 

For the return trip Sam and Dean dragged one of the beasts between them and Ava and Lily brought the other. Jess and Brady each carried a fawn in their jaws.

It was late by the time they got back to the Main Pack Grounds, but the arrival of fresh food meant that they were still met by a large group of happy wolves. Dean’s jaws and shoulders ached from pulling the weight of a full grown buck, but he’d held his head and tail high, proud at their success. It had been a good day. Mostly.

Happy to be able to leave the Pack to their usual bickering over who got to eat first, Dean called a good night to Ava and Jess. His thoughts were already focused on returning to the small grassy basin he and Sam had claimed for sleeping. Not to mention maybe getting payback for the images Sam had left in his mind since that morning. 

Thinking of which, Dean paused to search for the wolf in question and found his little brother away from the squabbles, looking towards the werewolf in its muddy ditch. 

The sight caused Dean’s hackles to rise. The slave gave him the creeps with its naked skin and it’s flat face. It might have fangs inside it’s pink lips and claws on it’s weird furless fingers, but it could barely be considered a proper monster. He shuddered. He would never understand why Sam was so fascinated by it. If Dean had been Pack Leader he would have killed it when it was first found trespassing. Anything that evil deserved to die, no questions asked. 

Why Yellow Eyes had instead Bound it as a slave, he didn’t know. Apparently the Alpha had some use for the thing. The whole idea caused Dean to shake his head perplexed and push away the troubling thoughts. His worries would still be there tomorrow, he intended to collect Sammy and enjoy the rest of his night.

Although thoughts of the Pack Leader lingered and just in case the gold wolf looked around, lifting his nose to the breeze and swiveling his ears to pick up stray sounds.

Thankfully the Alpha hadn’t come down to greet the returned hunt, one of the others probably took a fawn up to him, but Dean did find Brady. The white wolf was watching Sam intently and that wasn’t good. Brady was a favorite of the Pack Leader and likely to join the Wolf Council within the next few years. He already attended meetings. 

Sam and Dean didn’t need any additional attention from the Council. Not after what had happened when John died.

“Sam!” Dean called as casually as he could but with a slight undertone of tension only Sam would notice. Sam looked up.

“I’m heading to our den!” Dean added a loud yip and licked his muzzle as he flagged his tail, smirking salaciously. At the same time he unobtrusively flicked his eyes towards Brady. 

Sam pretended to yawn and drop his fore paws into a stretch, looking around just as casually. He saw Brady right away. Sam got the message, he wasn’t stupid no matter how stubborn he was. 

Moving away from the slave pit, the young wolf loped towards his brother, to all intents and purposes just a carefree youngster stretching his legs after a long day's hunt and ready for a little fun and relaxation. “Come on then you horn dog.” He whuffed with a leer for the benefit of their audience, jostling Dean along with small nudges of his nose, as if he couldn’t wait to get back to their den. 

They both pretended that Brady didn’t watch until they were out of sight.

—o0o—

Within Pack ground the dens for sleeping were set away from the main communal area so that wolves could rest quietly whenever they wished. Sam and Dean denned even further away from the others still. 

The wolves generally chose to sleep in warm grassy spots beneath trees or bushes and typically slept in piles of two or three for warmth and comfort, but all together they stayed clustered in one area for security, there was safety in numbers. 

Dean preferred to be further away not because he had anything against the other wolves but because Sam was loud when he was having fun. A nice comfy den spot and a happy relaxed wolf inevitably led to grooming and petting, and that led to sex more often then not. No one minded where a wolf had sex (or with whom - as long as all involved were sexually mature). But Dean had gotten tired of complaints from sleepy wolves when Sam wouldn’t stop howling. 

That wasn’t a wolf thing, howling through sex, that was a Sam thing. Everyone else managed to have an orgasm without screaming at the moon, but hey, Dean wasn’t about to stop the kid, and ya know? He kinda liked it anyway.

This night, as the brothers lay in the warm green grass of their den, surrounded by the black velvet of a clear sky and the distant light from stars peeking between the trees - Sam was attempting to be quiet. He was sprawled on his back, head rolling as his forepaws flailed uselessly in the air. 

Dean lay half on top of him, half off to the side, top to tail. He had Sam’s belly pinned beneath his chest and forepaws and his face buried between the other’s hind legs. For some time he had been lavishing long wet strokes of his tongue sloppily across Sam’s soft belly fur, drawing his brother’s cock free from its silken sheath. 

Dean rumbled happily as he worked, dedicated to his task as he diligently explored the newly bared length. Sam’s baculum was smooth and hard within the blood rich skin - the undiluted flavor of pure _Sam_ overwhelming Dean’s taste buds, causing his mouth to water. Saliva dripped messily as he mouthed at his prize, fearsome fangs held carefully so that he could use his tongue and nurse gentle as a pup at a teet.

From his pinned position Sam groaned. The wolfling had incredible patience but Dean was taking his time and working him into a frenzy. The young wolf wanted nothing more than to hunch his hips and fuck his brother’s face - to let his cock swell and his knot bloom. To tie in that glorious heat and feel the rush of fire low in his belly. 

He was restraining himself. Barely. But the images he threw into Dean’s mind left no doubt what he wanted to be doing: A violent frenzied fucking that was as arousing as it was anatomically improbable. But any moment now Dean knew that Sam would give in, start howling and give it his best shot. The thought had Dean’s cock jerking free of his own sheath and pearling at the tip.

For all his ‘complaints’, Dean didn’t consider his job well done unless Sam howled. He growled low in his chest, tightened his grip and renewed his efforts. The large gold wolf wasn’t neat as he licked but he was definitely thorough- warm wet spit mixing with pre-come, creating a glorious mess. Each slurp was an act of worship and of pure skill, Dean’s broad tongue undulating against his brother’s heated skin, never letting up for a moment. 

Throughout all this attention Sam had been valiant in his self restraint. His cock had tried to fatten as soon as it slipped his sheath and by sheer force of will he had controlled himself. But a wolf could only take so much torment. With the first hint of a howl he gave in. 

Bucking up hard, he allowed his cock to swell - the rush of blood to his groin an almost dizzying relief - and he began to thrust in abandon. His hips crashing and pounding to force his cock against anything that would supply the much needed pressure to pop his knot. 

With a mental smirk Dean dropped all of his weight across his brother's hips- having to use an impressive amount of force to hold the flailing young wolf - and rewarded the wolfling’s efforts. 

Grasping Sam’s swollen cock carefully between his parted fanged, he used his tongue to press the bulb firmly against the roof of his mouth. The tight wet heat of Dean’s mouth was exactly what his little brother needed. The older wolf silently encouraged his brother to thrust, rumbling contented growls around the cock in his mouth, strings of saliva pooling under his taste buds as Sam took him at his word.

With the added vibrations Sam lost it. The young wolf let go, totally ignoring the threat of sharp teeth, certain in the knowledge that his brother would keep him safe. He fucked with everything he had, chasing the lightning storm that was building in his bones.

Dean kept his jaws loose and held the pressure with his tongue taking every frantic thrust, adjusting to every movement to let Sam fuck as hard and as fast as he wanted to without even the slightest graze of fangs against his delicate skin. 

The youngster didn’t need to tell his brother he was getting close. Dean knew. 

“Fuck… feels so good. You gonna... you gonna come Sammy? Huh little brother?” Half formed questions bled from Dean, panted into his brother’s mind as if thoughts required the oxygen which Dean didn’t have to spare just now. He wasn’t looking for an answer, he could feel it. They were both cresting together. He knew exactly the moment Sam reached his peak. “Do it Sammy!”

Sam came with a howl. 

A wave of scalding hot come flooded Dean’s mouth, the rich salty flavor exploding against his parted jaws and hitting the back of his throat. He swallowed as fast as he could, winding his tongue around his brother’s cock to catch every drop. The taste of Sam was immediately followed by the wave of his feelings. 

The blast of emotion blocked out everything else. Nothing existed for Dean but Sam - inside and out. He almost didn’t feel the distant sensation of his own body seizing as he came, humping into the grass beneath him and grinding his knot between the fur of his belly and the soft spring ground.

For long moments neither wolf moved, their minds filled with shuddering aftershocks, caught in a loop as sensations passed back and forth between them sparking off new reactions - but slowly the tide did recede, allowing Dean to eventually rouse. The night reforming before his dazed eyes.

Dean parted his aching jaws (which even throughout his orgasm had been careful to protect their precious cargo) and lazily gluttonous he licked at the sodden fur of Sam’s belly. Sam’s knot still clenched sporadically, each flick of Dean’s tongue encouraging another spurt. Even untied he would still take a little time to deflate and stop coming and until then Dean chased every spilled drop, overworking the sensitive wolfling while Sam whined beneath him, his bright sunflower eyes unfocused and his tongue lolling. 

Sam tasted better than anything and even well satisfied Dean never wasted an opportunity to enjoy him. But eventually he conceded that the wolfling was as clean as he was going to get (with Sam piteously protesting that he’d finished and had had enough). Dean pushed himself off Sam. The older wolf stood tall for a few moments appreciating the cool night air before lifting a hind leg and contorting to give his own softening cock a few quick swipes to tidy up. 

Once content, Dean dropped his shoulders and forepaws down into a languid stretch, relishing in the pleasant afterglow of tired muscles before turning twice in a circle and dumping himself back down. He snuggled in tight to Sam, managing to get closer than should be possible while also deftly avoiding the wet patch in the process. He was good if he said so himself.

Sam had rolled upright onto his belly but lazily flopped his chin down onto his paws. It presented Dean the perfect perch for him to rest his chin on top of his brother’s shoulder. 

“.. was good.” Sam mumbled contentedly, flicking his ears, “An’ not tha’ ‘m complaining but wasn’t it your turn?” The young wolf gazed unseeingly into the dark, his jaws stretching around a yawn that left his tongue lolling.

“Yeah well.” Dean was justifiably smug at how fucked out Sam sounded, even if he was sounding pretty fucked out himself, “thought I’d give ya some payback for this morning.” 

Sam snorted inelegantly but didn’t otherwise disturb the quiet. The wind brought the distant sounds of other sleeping wolves and the rustle of small nocturnal mammals now feeling bolder since the monstrous howling had ceased. Luckily no one seemed to be complaining about their noisy activities. That was good. Life was good.

Dean let his green eyes slip closed, Sam safe and secure against him, his body warm with the contented glow of good sex with the wolf that he loved. 

Sleep was pulling him under but a stray thought tickled his mind just before he drifted away. “... don’t think I’ve forgotten ’bout the rest of what happened today. We’re gonna... have a long talk… you and me.” The gold wolf was asleep as he finished sending.

It took Sam much longer to fall asleep, even well satisfied and warm as he was. His brother's words had suddenly left him with a lot to think about.

—o0o—


	4. Chapter 4

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 4**

_Mid-Spring_

The Werewolf which the Pack kept Bound as a slave was a pitiful creature. 

Sam was being cautious this time; he had chosen a spot in the communal area which was well away from the creature’s pit, arranging himself to watch from the corner of his eye while pretending to doze in the sun. Most of the Pack assumed the wretched thing was retarded, not that they spoke to it. It didn’t have any Pack duties - they wouldn’t entrust duties to an outsider, let alone a human-natured beast - so communication wasn’t exactly essential. 

The slave’s main function was to act as a deterrent to other trespassers. That and being available whenever Yellow Eyes wanted something to vent his frustration on (or as Sam privately thought: when the Alpha needed a life source for his magic). The other wolves went out of their way to avoid even looking at the thing. Sam, being contrary, was fascinated.

In the time that he had been unobtrusively watching the Werewolf, Sam had come to understand that its body language made a lot more sense than most of the Pack assumed. Sure, without ears or a tail its communication was stunted, but if Sam treated its arms like forepaws and imagined it hunched over (which, to be fair, it was a lot of the time) he could pick out some emotions. The youngster was pretty sure that the head being held so low to the chest was dejection and submission, same as it would be in a wolf. The slave rarely raised its head. It made Sam feel… sorry for the creature. It wasn’t like the thing asked to be born human shaped, although the young chestnut wolfling knew better than to voice opinions like that out loud. It was best not to sympathize about anything to do with humans.

Today Sam was busy watching the thing's hands. In the chill light of early morning, the slave lay curled on its side scrabbling one handed in the dirt, much like how a wolf would dig with a paw. Every so often it would find a small insect and use its flexible fingers to capture the bug and carry it to its mouth. Sam had no idea if it normally ate insects, it seemed doubtful given the creature’s size but since the Pack rarely threw it scraps he supposed it ate what it could.

But the idea of using hands to carry food to your mouth, that fascinated Sam. What else could be carried with hands? He was half tempted to reach out privately to the creature’s mind and ask it directly but he wasn’t sure how the werewolf would react. He knew the slave wasn’t a total Null, it understood instructions well enough to obey them, but even if it was capable of sending thought and not just hearing them, he doubted it was psychically gifted to send privately. He couldn't risk it broadcasting back a general communication with so many Pack members around in the middle of the day.

Instead the young wolf turned his ideas over and over in his mind. Dragging home large prey after a hunt would be much easier if they could be lifted from the ground so they didn’t get caught on sticks and shrubs. Or clearing away rocks from a den space - instead of scratching at them what if you could carry them away? The possibilities were endless. Having hands sometimes instead of paws would be useful to the Pack. 

Every wolf had the ability to shift even if no one used it and Sam just couldn’t understand what was so bad about using the abilities they had for things that would be helpful.

Of course he knew that ‘Men were evil’. He understood that was why all monsters mistrusted things shaped like men, but why didn’t the Pack understand that wolves were not men, no matter what shape they were in?

Sam huffed a sigh and closed his eyes as his thoughts turned in circles. He wished he had someone he could talk to about these ideas. Much as he loved his brother, Dean just didn’t understand.

—o0o—

Much as he loved his brother Dean just didn’t understand him. They were supposed to be meeting the others for sentry duty which would have them away from the Pack for the next four days. The plan was for him and Sam to range out towards the western border of Pack territories and down towards the coast looking for trespassers or any signs of big game. Sam knew this. He knew how important the duty was to Pack well-being. So why was he late?

Dean had spent the morning unsuccessfully searching the main grounds for his brother and now the older wolf was ranging the surrounding woodland, all the while having flashbacks to the time Sam had been 15 and first decided to try shifting into human form. The memory still gave Dean nightmares; not so much the image of his brother without fur - although that was thoroughly disgusting - but the thought of what would have happened if they’d been caught. Honestly, getting thrown out of their home and the only Pack they had ever known would’ve been getting off lightly. Humans were evil, everyone knew that, and so was anything to do with them. He really hoped Sam knew better than to have tried something like that again. The memory left a feeling of dread churning in his stomach.

So Dean searched. He was increasingly tempted just to howl for the wolfling, except that he didn’t want to alert the whole Pack to the fact that Sam was missing and likely doing something he shouldn’t. But if he didn’t find him soon, Dean wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

—o0o—

“Sam, I swear to the Lord of The Morning, if you are looking at a human artifact I will bite you!”

Quickly Sam turned from where he had been attempting to pick up bugs from the base of a tree. At least he had fur over his paws instead of bare fingers. Dean wouldn’t have been pleased to see that.

Sam had given up on watching the Werewolf earlier that morning and left the central Pack grounds to come out into the woods. He’d needed a quiet place to experiment with his new ideas. Unfortunately for the young wolf he had become so absorbed in his research that he hadn’t noticed that the sun had long since passed its zenith. He should have met Dean and the others at mid morning for briefings so they could all leave for patrol at noon. Now everyone was going to be late and Dean clearly wasn’t happy.

Thank the Lord of The Morning he’d moved on to trying to replicate his results with paws instead of hands so that Dean hadn’t seen anything too incriminating. That would have been a hundred times worse.

Not that Sam lying to his brother about what he had been doing was even a consideration. The nuances encompassed within wolf communications didn’t allow for deceit... but omitting the truth? That was a very different matter.

Sam aimed his response for ‘shame-faced but not too guilty’. 

“No, no artifact Dean, swear. I was just busy thinking about insects and didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Insects?!” Dean was flabbergasted, “What kind of human-thinking stupidity… ” the gold wolf snapped his jaws closed on the rest of the common insult. ‘Human-thinking’ hit a bit too close to home considering Sam’s other obsessions. But the fear that had been biting at him all morning wouldn’t let Dean drop the matter. “Even if you ain’t been messing with human stuff Sam, it’s bad enough that I have to spend all morning looking for ya, not knowing what to think. But you never even stopped to think about how much trouble we’d be in, did you?” He glared, head high and stance firm - a sight that would intimidate any lesser wolf. “You can’t just wander off when you feel like it, Sam. We have Duties! We are supposed to be at the Sentry briefing. You can’t just decide to do your own thing, other wolves are counting on us! Come on! I shouldn’t have to tell you this.” 

Sam couldn't decide whether he should give in to his rage, which would end with Dean and him snarling in each other’s faces, or if he should just keep his head down and allow Dean to calm down before trying to talk some sense into him. It wasn’t like he had _meant_ to be late for duties, time had just gotten away from him. 

He was saved from having to decide when another mind intruded into their conversation.

“Deano, so _this_ is where you wandered off to.” 

Brady’s interruption halted both wolves cold. The white wolf stood among the trees only 10 paces off and was smiling with too many teeth. Neither brother had heard him approach and they weren’t glad to see him. Dean made a point never to discuss ‘sensitive’ matters with Sam where other wolves could hear and especially not Brady. Saying anything to Brady was the same as saying it directly to the Council, or (Lord of the Morning forbid!) Yellow Eyes himself. 

Conversations between wolves weren’t exactly private. Thoughts were sent towards the recipient and augmented by body language and wolf vocalizations. Normal Thought Speech was limited to range of sight but it was ‘audible’ to any wolf in the vicinity (with the exception of those poor individuals who were psychic nulls, a disability not tolerated in a Wolf Pack). Occasionally a wolf was psychically gifted enough that they could read more than the sent thoughts and get a feel for inner thoughts. Some few wolves could even place speech directly into another’s mind without anyone else hearing. Sam (the overachiever that he was) could do both. The pup ‘accidentally’ slipped into Dean’s inner thoughts on a regular basis; but even for him it took specific concentration to implant speech no one else would hear. Dean couldn’t do either of those things and he definitely hadn’t been quiet as he argued with Sam a few moments ago. 

A cold shiver prickled the fur along Dean’s spine as he wondered exactly how much the white wolf had overheard.

“Brady,” He kept his head high and ears proud to display strength but he refused to show bared teeth or any outward sign that he was agitated. He played it cool and unruffled. “We were just leaving. On our way to sentry duty. Sam lost track of the time. Pups! What can ya do?” He added a good natured grin like they were friends. “Good thing he’s mostly grown out of this kinda thing. He’s such a responsible young wolf usually. Speaking of, we better go, don't want to keep everyone waiting.”

Once again the brothers found themselves hurrying away as if Brady wasn’t watching their every move. Dean was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

—o0o—

“Sam was late for sentry duty today.” 

Brady gave his report from the edge of the large private space in front of Yellow Eyes’ den. The Pack Leader had chosen a small hill to one side of the communal grounds. It had a flat grassy top and a natural stone cave at the rear - all sheltered by a thin fringe of young trees. It was perfect for surveying the everyday bustle of the wolves below without being disturbed. It also subtly emphasized his position to supplicants who had to climb the hill to seek an audience. Brady was a regular visitor. 

From where he lounged on the grass, Yellow eyes gave a nod to let the other wolf approach. “What happened?”

“Dean went looking for him when he didn’t show for mid-morning briefings. Took the rest of the morning to find him. Seems the young wolf has been messing around with _human_ things.” The disgust coming from the white wolf was loud and clear, but he was almost gleefully in his report.

“Has he now?” The Pack Leader didn't seem perturbed by this shocking information but he had a question. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“No. I came straight to you.” 

“Good. Keep it that way. I have plans for Sam and they don’t involve ruining his reputation. Dean on the other hand is an annoyance. He’s a bad influence on our poor impressionable young pup. I think the time has come to deal with him. But first...” Without taking his eyes from the Pack grounds below, the wolf turned his head slightly, “Ruby?” 

A heartbeat passed and then a sleek black wolf appeared from within the den cave. “Yeah?” She was the only one who dared speak to him so casually. He allowed it because she was useful and kind of amusing but she also knew how far she could push and when to be respectful.

“Poor young Sam needs better friends and less attachment to that brother of his. I want you to be a good influence on him. Get to _know_ him. Let him interact with more of the ‘right sort’ of Pack.” 

Ruby grinned, Sam was a good looking wolf after all. She dropped her head in quick submission and turned to go down to the main grounds. She would need to find out what duties the young wolf was scheduled for.

“I have different work for you Brady.” The Alpha turned back to his dedicated underling. “We don't need other Pack members sympathetic to Dean and his bad influences. Take the opportunity while they are away to speak to a few key individuals. I'm not sure if Dean is really Pack material.”

“Yes Alpha.” 

The sycophant looked to be grinning as he left but with Brady that wasn’t unusual.

—o0o—

There had been some grumbling when the brothers finally arrived, but Jess was leading the mission and she had a soft spot for Sam. She had given them a stern reprimand but otherwise let the matter go, dismissing the teams to their tasks after a shortened briefing.

As far as he could tell they had mostly gotten away with it but Dean still wasn't happy. He was sure Brady was going to be a problem. The only good thing concerning Brady was that neither of them would be partnered with him for sentry duty because the white wolf’s work for Yellow Eyes excused him.

Sam and Dean had been ordered to scout west to the coast. Each pair would be taking one cardinal direction and theirs was West. They were to make a wide circle of the Pack territory down to the ocean. The teams would scout their assigned areas, patrolling two days out and two days back, then regroup to report their findings, or return sooner if they found anything worrying. 

Usually, on these longer missions, wolves were paired with one good tracker and one good fighter. Luckily for the brothers, Sam was one of the pack’s best trackers and Dean one of their best fighters. It meant that they almost always got paired with each other. 

It was nice to be out and moving with a purpose but as the brothers left the central grounds and began heading west Dean wasn’t thinking about the mission. He was looking forward to a chance to talk to Sam away from the rest of the pack.

—o0o—

The second day of sentry duty dawned clear and bright. Sam and Dean had scouted through the night with no signs of anything other than small indigenous wildlife. Now in the early morning sunshine, the clean crisp air carried a salt tang and brought with it the distant call of gulls. They were within half a day's steady lope of the Ocean and anticipation of the wide crystal blue waters and the calming roll of the waves always put Sam in a good mood.

Dean had been waiting for the right time to broach a tricky subject and so as they found a sheltered grassy spot to rest for a short while, Dean decided that this was as good a time as any. 

He just needed a safe topic to get the conversation started. 

“... Jess sure is one good looking wolf.”

“Huh?” Sam opened puzzled eyes having already settled down to nap. He wasn’t sure where his brother was going with that statement.

Flicking his ears as a fly buzzed past, Dean scratched nonchalantly at his ruff with a hind leg, ”I'm just saying, what with you turning 18 soon, and likely to get picked for mating duty once the bitches come into season… well, she definitely likes you… so maybe she would be a good choice of partner?”

“Yeah?” Sam still wasn't getting it.

“Sex Sammy! I’m talking about being duty bound to have lots and _lots_ of hot sex! You get excused from all other duties because you are expected to do nothing for _days_ on end but have hot messy sex!”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Is your brain incapable of holding more than one thought at a time Dean? The whole point of mating duty is that the Pack needs pups. It’s not like the sex is going to be all that important.”

“What d’ya mean ‘not important’?!” Dean was incredulous. “In what way is sex not important for making pups?” 

“No. I mean… important to _me_ . Sure Jess is nice an’ all, but I don’t _know_ her, know her. You know?” Dean was already pulling a face at that one, so Sam hurried on. “What I mean is: the good bit about sex is really knowing someone, you know?”

“No Sam I _don't_ know. The good bit about sex is the sex!”

“No! It’s like…” the chestnut wolf paused gathering his thoughts “...sex with you is amazing!”

“Yes because I’m awesome,” Dean couldn't resist a leer as he interrupted.

“Shut up!” Sam groaned, employing the world's greatest supply of patience for his denser than wood brother. “It's amazing because it's _you_ , even if I wonder what I see in you sometimes.”

“You’re over thinking it Sammy, it's not like you can only have sex with one wolf for the rest of your life. You can have sex with me whenever you want, but it’s only mating duty where you get given time off _just_ to have sex. You’re allowed to enjoy that…. And anyway you put up with me because I’m awesome.”

That pretty much killed the conversation, Sam not deigning to give an answer, so it was into dead air that Dean finally got around to asking his important question.

“Sam,” he began quietly, “what is this obsession you have with human things? Why can't you just leave it alone?”

The sigh Sam gave was patient, he’d known Dean was working up to something else. He also knew just how much his brother worried for him but the truth was he _couldn’t_ leave it alone. “I don't know Dean. I know that humans were bad and I know the things they made were dangerous. I just can't understand how something can be ALL evil? You know? Is anything totally good or totally evil? Some parts must have been good, and why can’t we use that?”

“Putting aside your frankly insane assumption that mankind did anything good, and the equally crazy idea that you can somehow judge if stuff - whose purpose we can’t even guess at! - is good or bad. There is still the fact that Pack Law forbids it Sammy.”

“Well maybe the Law is wrong.”

Dean didn't even bother to justify such blatant blasphemy with an answer. He just pretended that he hadn't heard it.

Sam continued regardless. “It's just, sometimes I have these dreams…”

“You mean like _Dream_ dreams?” The tone of Dean’s thoughts became worried.

“I dunno. Maybe. I can't really tell. I’m somewhere else but it’s not like anywhere I’ve ever been before. I think it might be underground. There are no trees or sky, but it’s not like a cave, the stones are all straight and there is too much light. And this place is full of hundreds and hundreds of strange artifacts. But the strangest thing is that I can feel a presence. Someone I can sense but not see and I get the tingly feeling like you do before a thunderstorm. And faintly I can hear the beating of wings. I don't know what it means but I'm sure... I feel like I’m on the edge of understanding something huge. Something important. But it doesn’t feel like a bad thing, you know? And then I wake up.”

Dean scowled at the ground, troubled. He knew better than to doubt his brother’s intuition when it came to his senses. Sam’s dreams often came true. But this was about _human_ stuff (strange caves and artifacts) and they just …. shouldn't. He scraped at a patch of grass with one paw, his claws rasping against the mud beneath. He didn’t meet his brother’s eyes.

“Look Sam I get it, you want answers. But sometimes you just have’ta accept that things are the way they are and that’s all the answer you’re gonna get. It's like John always said: Pack Law is the only thing that holds this world from sliding back into the evil of the past. We trust in that.” He finally looked up and met Sam’s gaze. “John would tell you to leave this alone.”

“Well John isn't here to tell me anything, is he?!” The wolfling let his bitterness bleed through. “Thanks to his hunting _accident_.”

“What’s that supposed to mean Sam?” Dean wasn’t surprised by bitterness but he was confused by the emphasis.

“You mean you _don't_ find it suspicious, how the Pack began whispering that John was spending too much time with his two pups, how everyone found it odd that our sire was so attached to us rather than letting us bond with our year's other littermates, like we were supposed to. And then all of a sudden he has some mysterious hunting accident that is never fully explained and we are just supposed to carry on like nothing ever happened?” Sam bared his teeth at the memory, “I was reprimanded by the Pack Leader just because I was sad, Dean!”

Sam’s ‘excessive’ mourning had become a point of gossip within the Pack, something that Dean remained acutely aware of whenever he saw other wolves observing his and Sam’s strange behavior. At the time Dean had been devastated too, but Sam had made the mistake of being vocal about it.

However, Dean had never thought much about the accident itself. “If there’d been some kind of outside attack, the Pack Leader would have told us, things like that affect everyone! It must have been an accident. What else could it have been?!”

“Not an _accident_ ,” Sam replied ominously.

Dean was shocked down to his core. Wolves in a large pack argue and squabble and sometimes their fights become physical, but a wolf had never killed another unless the whole Pack came together and decided it was for the good of the Pack, and that certainly hadn't happened where John was concerned. What Sam was suggesting was _murder_ , it was a disgusting _human_ thing. There was no way the pup could be right. Could he?

Neither of them know what to say after that and they didn’t talk anymore about it for the rest of the mission, but the conversation replayed often in both wolves’ minds.

—o0o—


	5. Chapter 5

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 5**

_The Summer Equinox_

Yellow Eyes was a massive wolf with a huge chest and long powerful legs. His coat was a striking mix of charcoal grey and white. His eyes gleamed deep gold over huge ivory fangs. And not only was he physically imposing but his magic was exceptionally strong, lending him a presence that filled the air around him like an oncoming storm.

He was the epitome of everything an Alpha, the Pack Leader, should be - commanding awe and respect as he paced among his Pack in the golden sunlight of dawn, surely a gift from the Lord of the Morning himself.

Occasionally, in his duties as Alpha, Yellow Eyes would walk among the Pack to reinforce dominance. The morning of the summer equinox was one such day.

Supported by the summer’s bounty, the bitches would soon come into heat. Mating season was a busy time for the wolves; extra food was needed and security had to be increased to protect the next generation, and all this would take place with reduced numbers due to those who were excused for mating duty and then pregnancy. The Pack Leader needed to ensure that his Pack was calm and prepared and that his hold on them remained strong. 

As the morning progressed he had toured through the heavily wooded den areas before moving down along Small River which flowed along the side of the main grounds. The Wolf had even crossed over and gone out to check the sentry wolves of the outlying perimeter. Now he swung back across the open shrub-land that covered the communal area at the center of the grounds. The flat space was dotted with small trees and in the midday sun was filled with the bustle of a prosperous Pack. 

The Alpha wasn’t alone, he was followed by Brady and the Pack Council. The small group gave his tour the feel of a procession. It never hurt to add a little pomp and ceremony to his everyday actions, it kept the lower wolves in a respectable state of awe. 

Ruby wasn’t included. The black wolf gained some social standing by being known as an occasional companion to the Pack Leader but she didn’t hold an official position. It was better that way for the kind of work she was best at, and regardless she was busy today ingratiating herself to Sam. 

The Alpha put aside the thoughts of his sometimes companion and turned his attention back to his Pack. As he passed through the hundred or so wolves in the communal area, every wolf stopped what he or she was doing; whether training, eating, playing or watching pups, they all paused to lower their bellies to the ground and bow their heads in submission. 

Not bothering to acknowledge them audibly, the Alpha stretched out his thoughts getting a feel for the energy of his wolves. And as he did so, he implanted into their minds the subtle compulsion for obedience and acceptance. The Pack responded with dedication and loyalty, as they should, but there were two specific minds that caused a ripple in his otherwise perfect pond. 

Over in the training area, where all had paused their mock battles to bow, he felt the young wolf Sam. The bright orb that was Sam’s mind shone out above the masses, powerful but too impetuous for his own good. And as always his steadfast brother stood guard at his side. Ruby had situated herself not far from the sparring matches which was good, but it was Sam’s power that drew the Alpha’s attention. It seemed that the pup had filled out in more than just his size as the season had passed. The Yellow Eyed wolf could almost taste the wolfling’s magic and he was more eager than ever for that power to be his. 

With the arrival of summer, Sam had turned 18 and was now eligible for full Pack membership and his first mating. Brady had reported that Jess had shown a preference for the young wolf. Jess was popular; a strong wolf and a good leader. He would need to see that she was quietly directed elsewhere. Ruby was making progress with Sam, although she reported that she hadn’t yet enticed him into sex. She said he was ‘sensitive’ whatever that meant, and was taking a measured approach but she swore he would be receptive when she came into season.

Ruby was crucial to his plans. If the youngster was anything like his sire John, Yellow Eyes was sure that pups whelped by Ruby would provide leverage over the wolf. An extra level of control that he would use to his advantage.

And as for the brother, Brady had reported that Pack suspicion was steadily growing against Dean. The white wolf was obsequious, but also charming when he wanted to be and he did have an innate gift for sowing gossip and descension. He had confided to several wolves that he was concerned about Dean’s lack of virility; how the gold wolf’s first two matings had failed to produce pups, especially worrying considering that his sire’s two matings had whelped just one pup each. Infertility had become an unforgivable stigma within the pack, for years the Alpha’s goal had been numbers, a Pack large and strong enough to crush its enemies. He had emphasized that only by breeding many healthy pups would the Pack survive. 

The by-product of this ethos was that gossip about Dean’s ‘failings’ had spread quickly - conveniently ignoring the fact that it was hardly unusual for a young wolf’s matting not to take in the first few tries. 

Brady had done well.

Lily, a hard working wolf of no great note, but generally well liked and respected, had been especially quick to spread the gossip - apparently she had never really liked Dean. This had been ideal. The pale wolf was of good enough standing for her words to carry weight, but she had no overt ties to Yellow Eyes or the Council. She had even done them the favor of embellishing the telling with her own concern over Dean’s obsessively controlling behavior towards Sam and how unPack-like it was. The Pack Leader couldn’t have been more pleased.

Opinion was steadily turning against the older brother and soon the Alpha would have grounds to cast Dean out, leaving Sam unguarded and vulnerable. It was a shame that he needed to go through the hassle of a formal Shunning but he couldn’t arrange another ‘accident’, two in a row would start to seem suspicious.

Deep in his thoughts Yellow Eyes hardly noticed that he had left the main Pack grounds and completed his procession. He was almost surprised to find himself back at the base of his hill. He was however pleased with the state of his Pack and the progress of his plans. 

With a casual shake of his ruff, the Alpha dismissed his thoughts and thanked the Council for their time, instructing them to return to their various duties in the knowledge that he was pleased. He asked Brady to stay behind. 

Waiting until the other wolves had lowered themselves in submission before leaving, the Alpha ensured they had privacy before he sent his thoughts to the white wolf. “The tour went well but I’m especially pleased with our progress on our two young wolves. I want you to continue on exactly as you have been doing. See to it that Dean has no support left in the Pack and that we will have grounds to Shun him by the time the bitches enter season. That will leave Ruby free to bring young Sam to me without distractions.”

Brady grovelled in pleasure at the praise, quickly assuring the alpha that everything would be done as exactly he said. 

The Pack Leader dismissed him then and turned to ascend his hill with one last order, “... send up the slave and then make sure I’m not disturbed until I call.”

—o0o—

Pain accompanied the werewolf’s every move as he crawled on his hands and knees up the Pack Leader’s hill. Not that being in pain was unusual in and of itself. He was constantly cold and weak from starvation, continually having to expend energy he didn’t have to heal claw slashes or the broken bones. Pain had become his only companion these last several years and he knew it in all its many forms. The only small mercy that he could think of was that he didn’t often have to heal bite wounds. His wolf masters were more likely to batter him with a heavy paw then to set teeth to his flesh. Apparently he tasted bad; though that thought was insulting in itself - after all the Mutts were more than happy to lick clean their own asses after taking a shit, so why his ‘filthy human’ flesh should cause such disgust, he didn’t know. 

The biggest mistake he had ever made was attempting to cross Wolf Territory. Since he had been captured his life had become nothing but unending torment. It wasn’t just the subjugation and mistreatment, it was the constant psychological torture of being reviled as something lesser... something _less than human_. And when speaking of the new world order of monster-kind that was saying something. 

He had come to think fondly upon his own death. The sweet release of Purgatory would be paradise after this but it remained an unattainable dream. Mutts had such unusually strong magic and the Were cursed the Lord of the Morning for that on a daily basis. If he had been able to he would have clawed out his own heart and speed his demise but the Yellow Eyed Wolf had placed a compulsion on him that prevented him taking his own life. He had no choice but to endure whatever torture the wolves devised.

Grasping a handful of sturdy weeds and pulling with his emaciated arms, the slave finally heaved his body over the summit of the hill. His weakened muscles trembled from exertion and he was thankful that he didn’t have to rise, that the Alpha would expect him to approach belly to the ground. 

Without raising his head, the creature inhaled carefully. The moon wasn’t full and his sense of smell wasn’t perfect but it was good enough to tell him that the Pack Leader was only a few paces away. His stunted human ears could also faintly pick out the steady sound of breathing as the wolf lounged at ease. So he waited where he was, glad for the chance to rest. The Alpha would acknowledge him when he was ready.

Despite the summer season the ground was cold and on top of the hill while the slave waited and the wind shivered his naked skin. The fond memory of clothes crossed his mind for the briefest moment but he pushed the useless thought away, there was no point remembering the joys of the past. Instead he turned his thoughts back to the Alpha, using the feel of the Leader’s magic to pinpoint his position in his mind. Wolf magic was different from anything he knew from before. Refusing human shape had led Wolves to rely more heavily on their psychic abilities to communicate. Were’s had no need for that since they customarily spoke to each other. But despite his own limited abilities the Were could still feel the Wolf before him. The Alpha filled his mind like a great storm about to break and wreak havoc on the land and as always it caused him to tremble from more than exhaustion and cold. Much as he wished to hide from such a force, his fear of what was to come kept him focused on it. 

The slave wished he could cower from the strange magic, run away - weak or not he would have done it if given half the chance, but that too was a pointless wish. The Bond prevented him from escaping. The Alpha had let him try when he was first captured. Not only had he physically been unable to escape - it had felt like he hit a wall of invisible rock as soon as he reached the edge of the central Pack grounds - but more importantly he still shuddered to remember how Yellow Eyes had slashed and torn at him afterwards, just to ensure the lesson stuck. It was the first time the Were had cursed his ability to heal but not the last.

There was no way to guess what torment the wolf had in mind for him this time. The slave kept his eyes fixed on the dirt. He knew better than to look at or, Lord of the Morning Forbid, ask the Alpha. Another lesson the wolf had only needed to teach once. It had been years since any sounds other than cries of pain had passed his lips. Would he even still be able to speak if he tried? Not that he had any intention of trying. 

All he could do was wait. Eventually he heard the wolf rise and approach. 

Paws came into view in his lowered gaze and the slave felt a tangible force engulf him, pinning him immobile. Without conscious thought a whimper escaped his throat. If the wolf needed magic to hold him, this was going to be especially bad.

Tensed, he saw the paw lift, only to be confused when instead of slashing down to tear up his face, it began to instead scratch at the earth beside his head. 

The wolf dug for long moments, ignoring the slave, until a small pit had formed just by his chin. 

He watched, immobile, confused, not daring to think. The next time the paw rose high though, it wasn’t to dig. In a single savage swipe the Alpha slashed down his claws and tore out the slave’s throat. 

A searing gush of blood erupted from jagged wounds. The gaping space where his throat had been spurting a crimson flood into the pit. Muscles spasmed as he tried to cough, shuddering, his body instinctively trying to writhe in pain but unable to move against the bonds that held him. 

He couldn’t breathe. Fighting desperately for oxygen, he drowned in blood, unable to raise a hand to staunch the flow. 

It seemed to take an eternity but after only a handful of heartbeats his vision narrowed. All the slave could see was the bright arterial flow, the red color saturating the air along with the sharp smell of copper suffused with pain. With each pulse his life drained away into the mud and as his vision darkened from the edges, he prayed to the Lord of The Morning that this time he would not wake up.

—o0o—

If the blood pouring from the Werewolf hadn’t carried the foul taint of man, Yellow Eyes might have salivated.

Instead he watched with a critical eye until sufficient blood had gathered before he extended just the minutest amount of magic to halt the flow and nothing more. 

The Were would crawl away once it woke. It would heal on its own, it usually did.

For now, having no more use for the thing, the wolf used his back legs to kick it aside until it toppled from the edge of the hill and disappeared from view. 

Fastidiously he wiped his paws clean on the grass. 

He was turning back to his pool of blood when he noticed Ruby cresting the hill. “I told Brady I didn’t want to be disturbed.” 

“Yes well,” Ruby was unrepentant, “Since you had finished your procession I was coming up to give you an update on Sam anyway…” she shook her ruff in the equivalent of a shrug before impudently leaning in to sniff the blood. Her lip curled in disgust when she caught the underscent of Were. “What’s this for?”

The Alpha eyed the black wolf speculatively. Ruby had an aptitude for magic, he had taught her much already. Perhaps the time was right for a little more.

“This, my dear little insolent bitch, is the most important ingredient needed to communicate with a demon.” 

Ruby lowered her ears submissively as her eyes widened, but she practically radiated excitement. “Who?” She didn't even question the concept. There was a reason why he liked Ruby.

“The great Lord Azazel.” The name carried weight, though few still knew it to speak it. 

The Alpha decided magnanimously to spare the black wolf a few moments for a history lesson, “Most demons were too corrupted by the taint of humanity to survive the purge, but the Lord Azazel was crafty. He hid himself in the empty planes of Hell, slamming closed the gates behind him and staying safe throughout the slaughter. But not before he had gifted his blood to my ancestors passing it down to me through my sire. The blood of the Lord Azazel within my veins creates a bond between us that allows me to call on him for aid.” Ruby looked suitably impressed and the Alpha couldn’t help demonstrating just a little more of his knowledge and power.

“Demons call the Lord of The Morning, Lucifer. They served him while he was imprisoned in Hell and Azazel was the Lord’s most trusted servant. He had to hide from Lucifer's wrath during the purge of course, but that was only prudent. Now that sufficient time has passed for his rage to cool, if Lucifer were to return he would surely remember his most trusted servant.”

The black wolf’s ears were now pressed flat to her head and her belly low to the ground. Talk of demons was one thing, but the Alpha was talking like he would summon god. “You mean to summon the Lord of the Morning himself?” Fear tinged her thoughts. 

Yellow Eyes grinned, showing his fangs. “There are other special bloodlines in the world. Vessels. Mortal bodies imbued with power so great as to be able to contain the Lord of the Morning himself. The Lord never found his perfect vessel when he was here last, but I have found it where he could not!” He grinned slyly at Ruby’s awestruck look, “the Lord of The Morning’s perfect vessel is our own dear pup Sam. For years I have worked to bring him under my control. You didn’t think my interest in him was purely altruistic did you?” 

He laughed as the black wolf gained a calculating look in her eyes, “First John and now Dean have stood in my way, but I am not Alpha just because of my size and good looks. I have the will to be victorious and Sam will be well worth the effort. As the true vessel our young wolfling has no idea just how strong his magic could be, but with me to teach him, I would have enough power to open the gates of hell and free Lord Azazel. And with the perfect vessel in our hands, the greatest demon ever at my side, and an army of wolves at my back, even the Lord of the Morning would pay homage to me.”

The Pack Leader's eyes seemed to glow with an infernal light as his presence filled the air. This was so much more than Ruby had expected, even from the Alpha, but standing before him and feeling his power, she believed him.

The Yellow Eyed wolf pinned her with his lit gaze. “I plan to be the greatest monster to ever walk the earth.” He said quietly but with utter assurity, “The Council of Monsters will bow to me and so will every creature that runs or swims or flys.

“If the Lord of the Morning returns, he will not be interested in ruling monster-kind, but he _will_ be grateful to the one who had gifted him his perfect vessel. I will stand at god's right hand, and you my dear could stand with me.” 

It was gratifying to see the greed that filled the black wolf’s eyes. Greed was good, when coupled with intelligence it was a tool that the Alpha could use. He had chosen well when he chose Ruby. But his thoughts were getting ahead of himself. One step at a time in his plan. And the first step was Sam. With Dean soon to be outcast there would be no one left to oppose his control of the young wolf. He would break Sam to his will quickly enough.

Instructing the black wolf to watch and stay silent the Alpha turned back to the cooling pool of blood and began to incant the ancient words he had learned from his sire as he called upon the demon.

Yellow Eyes advised the Lord Azazel on his progress with the pup Sam and the growth of their plans and the demon seemed pleased. In so far as Ruby could tell anyway. It’s voice was filled with the wailing of a thousand souls even in its triumph.

Afterwards, as Ruby left to return to her task of winning Sam, she thought about that voice and how it would haunt her sleep for months to come, but regardless she moved with renewed purpose. Yellow Eyes was cold, egotistical and condescending, but she utterly believed that he could do what he intended. She could play her part. After all, it was better to rule in hell than to die pitiful and wander purgatory for all eternity.

—o0o—


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - warning for wolf anal sex at the start of the chapter

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 6**

_Earlier that morning..._

The sun rose bright and clear on the morning Sam turned 18. Well not the exact morning, Wolves didn’t keep track of individual days, but today was the Equinox, the first day of summer when the sun set at its northernmost point. As a wolf whelped during spring, the equinox was the time assigned for annual celebrations and the other spring littermates would also be celebrating today. But Sam would be doing something they weren’t because he had Dean. 

The gold wolf had woken Sam up by licking at his muzzle while filling the wolfling’s mind with whispered filth, which had been enjoyable enough until Dean had begun teasing that since Sam was now eligible for mating duty he should learn how to use his cock properly.

Sam knew very well how to use his cock, thank you very much, so he decided to just show Dean rather than reply.

Using all the power of his newly filled out chest and those ever so long legs, Sam bowled Dean over, pinning the older wolf on his back in the same position that Dean usually loved to trap Sam in, except Sam didn’t go for his brother’s cock. 

Nudging aside the thick bushy tail, Sam buried his nose in the hot bare skin behind Dean’s softly furred balls and began to lick messily, dragging his tongue over the taint until the skin was soaking wet and soft. 

Dean had none of the restraint Sam showed when their positions were reversed. At the first touch of delicious wet heat he had immediately instructed Sammy to get on with it, adding helpful advice on good positions. 

Sam ignored him, taking his time to work his tongue around the hole until he could push easily inside, licking deeply as he could to make sure that his brother would be nice and pliant before he mounted. After all, he was a very attentive, well mannered young wolf.

Despite all Dean’s jokes there was proper etiquette to observe when mounting another male and contrary to what Dean might say, Sam had been paying attention. To do it well he needed to get his partner good and wet and well warmed up, while maintaining absolute control over his own desire. 

Wolf biology wasn’t exactly suited to extended foreplay. If he wanted to actually mount and knot, he needed to get his cock into his brother before he started to swell, let alone popped his knot. Luckily for them Sam had self control. You wouldn’t catch him popping his knot early and then failing to tie. When he mounted someone they were going to know about it.

By the time he had finished opening Dean up, Sam was only slightly chubbed despite how much pre-come he was leaking. But that hot tight feeling shivered under his skin prickling his fur. Warmth gathered in his balls as the scent of his brother filled his nose, warm wet heat calling for more.

Dean hadn’t helped a bit. He had narrated the entire process with a steady stream of: “Can't wait to feel your cock Sammy, gonna feel so good. You gonna fill me up little brother? Stretch me wide and knot me tight, make me come so hard I can taste you?” Which should have been ludicrous but with his tongue buried in Dean’s ass and already imagining the same hot wet pressure on his cock, it had been a torment of the most delicious kind.

Impatient now that his prep was done, Sam nudged Dean up to all four paws, scrambling to throw himself onto his brother’s back, which at least finally shut Dean up. Gripping tightly with his forepaws Sam hunched his hips and slid home with perfect aim, his baculum penetrating the well slicked entrance on the first thrust as the young wolf dragged himself close and began pounding hard and fast. 

Tight heat slicked with spit and pre-come became even tighter as his cock filled to double its size and his knot was finally free to swell. Each thrust pushed the bulb deeper into his brother’s willing body, the press against his prostate causing Dean to clench in response.

Dean was too busy panting and gasping for air, even in his thoughts, to voice any more advice, but each grunt he made carried the undertone of “Sam, Sam, Sam!”

Considerate as he had been in his prep, once mounted there was no stopping the young wolf in his furious pursuit of completion. Sam was a force of nature and Dean willingly bowed to the storm.

With a last thrust so hard that it nearly knocked them both off their paws, the younger wolf’s knot finally caught and his whole body spasmed as his balls drew up tight and he came.

The breath froze in Dean’s chest. Sam was swelled up massive and hot (Lord of the Morning where did he hide that thing?) and clamped tight against his sweet spot, a flood of heat filling his insides with every pulse, and every nerve ending in Dean’s body ground to a halt before firing all at once. His orgasm caught them both up in a feedback loop of continuous shivers and explosions that seemed to last for eternity, a blaze hotter than the sun that consumed them both until surely nothing could be left but ash and cinder.

That age of the world had ended and a new one began, before Sam slowly came back to his senses. Hung limply over his brother’s back, trying to relearn how to breath, he panted hotly against Dean’s ear. 

The scent of brother, home and sex, saturated everything around them and the air had never smelled so sweet.

Dean of course had to ruin the mood. Sam was still spurting weakly and would be for some time yet but Dean was currently holding them both up and his legs were feeling wobbly. “Yer heavy” the gold wolf slurred.

Sam was too tired to roll his eyes. “I love you too Dean.” 

The young wolf considered his options. Swinging off and standing tail to tail would probably be easiest, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go of his brother just yet. Instead, going with a hunch, he tightened his grip and toppled them both to one side to land spooned in the grass.

It wasn’t the smoothest move Sam had ever made. His front paw got squashed between Dean and the ground, and his big brother yipped painfully as Sam’s knot pulled against his swollen rim. Luckily they didn’t untie, that really would have been painful for Dean. But at least they were now off their paws and more comfortable as they waited.

Despite the literal pain in his ass, Dean managed a chuckle. “Awww Sammy I get all tingly when you take control like that. But maybe don’t try that move on anyone else without some warning first, okay?”

“Shut up Dean,” this time Sam did roll his eyes as he grumbled, but he also snuggled his nose deeper into his brother’s ruff and pulled him in tighter with his paws. The wave of love that his brother was swamping him with gave lie to his jokes. 

There wasn’t anywhere either of them would rather be. And with the warm comfort of each other filling their senses neither one had any desire to move any time soon.

—o0o—

Sam guessed some things would never change or at least change only slowly. Despite the fact that Dean was walking extremely carefully after their birthday celebrations and still sending Sam random bursts of undiluted afterglow affection, he had spent most of the morning telling the “pup” that his technique could use more practice.

Once they had unknotted and roused themselves they had grudgingly gone down to the communal area for regular training practice - mock one-on-one fights with the other young wolves, designed to sharpen their skills and reflexes. 

Sam had done well against his litter-mates, winning all of his bouts thanks to his ever increasing size and a few tricks Dean had been teaching him. Dean had moved stiffly through his own fights at first but he had soon warmed up. 

It had been business as usual even with Ruby appearing at the training grounds and insisting on calling encouragement from the sidelines. Sam had just decided to ignore her, trying to hang on to his warm post-orgasm glow for as long as possible. 

The only big disruption had come when the Alpha and the Council had toured the Pack Grounds. By that point Sam and Dean had been training together and had paused with everyone else to bow in submission, but for some reason the visit had left Sam disquieted. 

Still the day had moved on after the Alpha left and with training over, Dean had also left to go and look for Ava. 

Him and Dean were supposed to be on hunting duty tonight, just a short run for small game, but Dean wanted to see if Ava and Lily would swap with them. He’d made a lot of noise about spending some more quality time celebrating with Sam. 

(When explaining his plan Dean had delivered his announcement with a leer and several crude thrusts of his hips, saying that he would show Sam how it was actually done. He somehow seemed to think that this was adorable. Sam was pretty sure that if he did the same antics with Ava, Lily would bite him. She had been acting even cooler to Dean than usual recently.)

Meanwhile Sam had decided to wander idly through the communal area - soaking up the bustle of the Pack. It also just _happened_ that the slave pit was located over this way, downwind of the main grounds, and in the direction that Sam was casually moving. 

He had thought maybe to watch the Werewolf for a bit, but once he crossed the grassy expanse, he found the pit empty and the only reason for it to be away was if Yellow Eyes had summoned it. 

Sam shuddered, hoping the creature would be alright but he knew that there was nothing he could do for the poor thing. A bit regretfully he turned back towards the main grounds this time _actually_ wandering aimless.

The summer equinox might have dawned bright and sunny but now in the early afternoon heavy clouds had been darkening the sky for some time. It was threatening rain by the time Sam spotted Jess. 

Jess was one of four wolves on puppy duty today. All Pack members took turns teaching and guarding the pups, regardless of who whelped or sired. Currently there were eighteen litter-mates, whelped last season by 4 or 5 different matings and the pups were being raised communally as was tradition. (Sam hadn’t really paid attention to who whelped and sired last season, but he did remember at least 4 maybe 5 of the Pack females being pregnant because they hunted extra food for them.) 

Jess always had time to chat while watching the pups and he did enjoy spending time with her. Hopefully the rain would hold off and he would have time to say hello. He turned and made his way over.

“Hey Sam,” She called when she saw him, “Looking forward to becoming a full Pack member and not being a ‘Pup’ anymore?” She leant in to touch her nose to his, before being a little more familiar and running along his snout to nuzzle briefly under his ear.

Sam laughed warmly as he returned the gesture taking in her spicy scent, “I know technically I need to wait for the Pack Meeting before we are formally recognized as full members, but the equinox has arrived and I wish someone would remind _Dean_ not to call me ‘Pup’ anymore.”

At the mention of Dean’s name Jess’ tail and ears drooped, the blond wolf taking a small step back and holding herself still. The change in energy was noticeable and she seemed to be about to ask him something serious when another voice intruded. 

“I’m sure that’s not all Sam is looking forward to though, huh Sam?!” 

The interruption came from Ruby. After the Pack Leader had completed his tour she had disappeared but apparently she was back and seemingly even more filled with energy than usual. She seemed to be there every time he turned around these days and while he usually just ignored her this was excessive even for her. 

He’d been meaning to talk to Dean about the black wolf, but his older brother would probably just have told him to have sex with her and get it out of her system. Well, maybe not since it was Ruby, and Dean wasn’t exactly keen on her. But anyway they had been busy with other things recently and the opportunity to talk about her hadn’t come up.

Now the wolf in question didn’t bother to greet Sam or Jess politely. She ignored Jess entirely and instead pressed herself into Sam’s space to learn against his side, her tail wagging lightly.

Rather than take offence at the lack of greeting, Jess suddenly became very intent on watching the playing pups and looking worriedly at blackening skies. The blonde wolf gave a small respectful nod to Ruby and then edged towards a pair of pups who were wrestling a little further from the main group. “I should keep an eye on these pups. These two especially are really excitable.” She laughed a small polite whuff, not the large bright laugh she normally had. “And it looks like rain anyway so I shouldn’t be shirking my duties...” 

With that last word Jess turned, picking up one of the two pups gently in her jaws and began herding the other back towards the main group. A large underground den was dug into soil at the base of several trees and provided shelter for the vulnerable young pups and as she went Jess called out to the adults to get the other pups into the den before the rains came.

Sam watched her sudden departure in bewilderment hardly noticing that Ruby was still trying to get his attention. The black wolf leant herself even closer, pushing her shoulder into his while casually flagging her tail to the side. As obvious an invitation as a bitch could make, but of course totally ‘accidental’ on her part. “Pups aren’t the only ones who can be excitable,” she murmured suggestively.

Sam turned away from Jess and finally noticed how close Ruby had gotten. He laughed politely, stepping back. “Yep, pups are definitely hard work. Well it was nice seeing you Ruby but I have to see where Dean has got to, we are supposed to be on hunting duty later but he wants to have sex. I’m sure I’ll see you round.”

Ruby stared after Sam as the young wolf hurried away without giving her a chance to say anything more. She might have overestimated her progress report to Yellow Eyes and now she was realizing just how high the stakes were. But she couldn’t think what more she could possibly do.

Seriously if the wolfling wasn’t so vocal when having sex with his brother she would be convinced that he didn’t know what his cock was for. She was using her best moves here. Any other wolf in the Pack would have mounted her already. 

Ruby sighed frustrated and turned to watch Jess who was disappearing into the pup den while studiously keeping herself busy. At least someone understood what was going on here.

—o0o—

Dean had been searching for a while when he found Ava down by Small River on the edge of the grounds. The charcoal wolf stood with her paws in the water, drinking with her head bent low. She obviously hadn’t heard him approach because when he called her name her head shot up, droplets of water flying from her jaws and she nearly lost her balance in the shallows.

Dean laughed good naturedly but when she didn’t join him he stopped, smiling sheepishly. She looked wary, tail stiff, head once more lowered and he hadn’t meant to be mean.

“Dean, I didn’t hear you coming.” She didn’t move to greet him or to take his scent, staying instead in the shallow lee of the river, watching him like he was a snake she had unexpectedly found in her den.

From his place on the bank Dean started to feel uneasy. “Sorry Ava, I didn’t mean to laugh. I haven’t seen you around for ages. If I didn’t know better I’d think you was avoiding me.” He laughed a little at his joke. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Fine.” She didn’t elaborate or ask how he was.

“Oh. Good. That’s… uh good.” The pause quickly became uncomfortable and Dean shuffled his paws. “So, I, um, I was wondering if me and Sam could swap our hunting duty later tonight with one of your’s and Lily’s? We got some big plans-” He had the rest of his speech prepared about Sam being all grown now and someone having to show him where to stick it when mating. She didn’t give him a chance.

“No sorry, we can’t.” 

Just that and nothing else. Dean snapped his jaws shut. What the fuck?! 

“Have I done something? Are you actually upset with me or something? Cause I gotta say I’m not really feeling the love here Ava.”

The look she turned on him then was surprisingly cold. “I thought Lily was exaggerating. She has never liked you all that much and was making a big deal about you not getting pups on anyone last season. But, like, so what?! We’re all still young! I was gonna ignore all the rest, but you know what? I’ve been watching you and she was right! _It’s not natural, you and Sam_!” She hissed at him as he blinked in confusion. 

Pups? Who said anything about pups?! And WHAT wasn’t natural? - but the other wolf charged on without giving him the chance to ask. “Everyone has favorite companions, Lord of The Morning, me and Lily have been together for years! A wolf can fuck whoever they want! But at least Lily doesn’t try to keep me away from the rest of the Pack. I didn’t want to believe it Dean, but it’s true isn’t it? What you are doing to Sam is wrong! And if you are not careful someone is going to have to do something before you seriously hurt that pup!”

Dean was still searching for words as the charcoal wolf spun and stalked away, the fur along her back and tail in spikes like she had just had a confrontation with a bear, as opposed to a supposed friend. “Yeah. Well… _you’re_ seriously wrong!” He huffed lamely to her retreating back, angered and frustrated by the whole exchange.

He had no idea what she was talking about. He would NEVER hurt Sam, so what exactly was so wrong about the two of them? Sure they had always been close, but why bring that up now?! And what exactly did she mean about keeping Sam away from the Pack? They were both right here! Pack was everything to Dean. 

But the bit that really worried the gold wolf was the ‘someone is going to have to do something’ line. That was never a good sentiment to be circling the Pack, and coming from a wolf like Ava who he had thought was his friend, it was all the more worrying.

So that was definitely a no on switching duties then. Dean sighed as he turned to go. He needed to tell Sammy they would have to delay their plans, but he also needed to find out what all this Pack gossip was about.

As Dean left the river and trotted back through the main grounds it began to rain hard. The weather had been steadily worsening as the afternoon progressed and now it matched his mood perfectly. Low heavy clouds opening with a grey depressing downpour.

Flicking his ears to throw off the water and keeping his head low, the gold wolf paid more attention on the way back than he had on the way out. This time he noticed the subtle attitude of the wolves he passed. They were definitely unhappy with him for some reason.The Wolves he had trained with had seemed alright this morning but he hadn’t really paid much attention, too distracted by the pleasant twinge in his ass every time he moved. And after that he had been busy training with Sam. This was the first time today he had really paid much attention to anyone else. Or in recent weeks, come to think about it. Maybe the two of them did keep to themselves a bit much. 

Sam and him had never been overly concerned with Pack gossip; aware that their tight bond was seen as strange, not to mention the unusually close relationship with their Sire and Sam’s reaction to his death. But Dean had always kept a feel for the general Pack mood; conscious of Sam’s odd obsessions and keen to make sure no one found out about the pup’s ‘human sympathies’. Though viewed as a little strange they had never faced outright hostility before and none of that gossip was new so he had no idea what would have caused this sudden dislike.

They were both large handsome wolves; Dean with his envious gold coat and green eyes, Sam with his long chestnut fur and ever increasing size. Both of them strong and capable, good trackers and excellent hunters, dedicated to their duties and the welfare of the pack. Nothing had happened to change that, but now as he looked around the communal grounds, he saw hard eyes and cold glances turned in his direction. Wolves subtly moved away as he passed, lips curling slightly. They were treating him almost like he was… a slave, something not Pack. 

Dean had never gotten that reaction before and he didn’t like it one little bit. He needed to find Sammy and quickly. Something was seriously wrong.

—o0o—


	7. Chapter 7

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 7**

The rain was now falling in earnest and Jess and the pups had retreated inside the den. Dean was obviously still engrossed talking with Ava so with nothing else to do Sam decided to head back to their own den. He didn’t really enjoy rain anyway. 

Only the pups and the Pack Leader had covered den spaces, but there were larger trees and thick undergrowth at the sleeping dens. A nice thick shrub would be sufficient to keep off the worst of the rain and he would be able to settle somewhere a bit dryer as he waited for his brother.

The shortest route from the communal ground to the dens went around the base of the Pack Leader’s hill. Most wolves gave it a wide berth, unconsciously respecting the Alpha’s privacy. Not Sam, he liked the fact that the area was less busy and often used it as a shortcut. Today though his only thought was getting out of the rain as soon as possible, but as he rounded the base of the hill he spied the Were slave through the curtain of pouring water. The creature lay slumped in the weeds at the bottom of the hill and despite the storm it wasn’t moving. 

Against his better judgment, Sam stopped. He shouldn't have. There was really nothing he could do for the poor creature. Yellow Eyes often took his frustrations out on it. It would heal in time, it always did. It would be better for both of them if he left it alone. But during the several moments Sam had watched, the Were hadn’t moved at all and that worried the young wolf.

Checking cautiously around himself, Sam made sure that the other wolves had sought cover from the storm. If he was going to be stupid it would be best if no one saw him talking to it, for both their sakes. 

He approached only once he was certain. The rain damped down all scent and drowned out small noises and he couldn't see if the creature’s chest was moving, though it lay on its back, but as he got closer he did see that a ragged red gash marked the place where its throat had been. Tiny bubbles of air popped through the bloody ruin as it unconsciously struggled to draw shallow breaths. Even the wash of rainwater wasn’t enough to cleanse the russet stain, it was covered in blood. Far too much blood.

Sam whined low in his throat, his tail clamping low as his ears flattened. The slave looked worse than he had ever seen it. As far as he could tell it looked to be dying. 

Stretching his mind outwards, the wolf tried to see if he could sense any healing. 

He couldn't tell, he wasn’t getting anything from the things mind, not even feelings. But from what he could see, the creature’s fur-less skin - where it wasn’t marred with red - was tinged blue. That couldn’t be a good sign, especially since the summer storm had lowered the temperature significantly. 

The creature needed to be somewhere sheltered to allow itself to heal. Sam had some basic knowledge of healing magic but nothing that would help a wound that bad.

The wolfling scanned the surrounding bush-land once again, this time stretching his senses out across the main grounds. He wasn’t great at feeling the exact locations of wolves he wasn’t close with, but he could get a sense of general Pack energy. He could feel the Alpha on his hill had taken shelter in his cave and the rest of the wolves seemed to be huddling in together, busy seeking cover. 

There was no one near them who would see him with the slave, if he was quick. He could just take a little more time and help it crawl to a better spot under some bushes. He would be on his way in moments, no one would ever know. Once the creature was warmer and drier it would be able to heal itself. No big deal. Touching the thing wasn’t _technically_ forbidden.

Through the driving rain Sam edged right up to the creature. He nudged it gently with his nose. 

It didn't stir. He wasn’t really surprised. He would have to be more forceful if he wanted to rouse it. 

Sam snapped his jaws by its ear and growled. At the same time he also tried to send private thoughts to the creature’s unfamiliar mind. He called as loudly as he dared: “Wake up!” 

There was still no reaction, not even a groan. Sam either wasn’t connecting with it, or it was too deeply unconscious to respond.

Taking a small pace back, Sam shook the rain out of his sodden fur and thought about his options. Since the creature was unable to crawl, maybe he could drag it. He looked at it thoughtfully. He would just need to find a place to get a good hold on it. 

Sam bent his head and nosed at the creature’s neck, doing his best to avoid the gaping wound, but the scent of blood filled his snout regardless. He huffed out air through his nostrils to clear them. 

The werewolf didn't seem to have a convenient ruff to bite on to and the hair on top of its head didn't offer much purchase. It puzzled the young wolf. In the end he decided to just place his jaws around its left shoulder, but no matter how carefully he pulled the task was impossible. He had to bite lightly to avoid injuring it further - he didn’t think it had much blood left to lose. But without sinking in his fangs he couldn’t get a tight enough grip to move the large man shape. 

He never had this problem when dragging home prey, dead things didn’t mind when he bit them! It was situations like these why they needed hands.

Sam froze. Hands. He couldn't! Could he?

The young wolf looked around guiltily but he was still alone, and the rain was still falling as hard as ever. A first roll of thunder chose that moment to emphasize the fact.

This was stupid. A crazy idea. But he was in a position where he could help an injured creature. 

It was definitely a risk but Sam was the one who would have to live with himself if the Were died. Especially if he had been in a position to help it and had refused to because he was afraid. Its death would be on _his_ conscience and Sam didn’t think he could live that. 

The chestnut wolf again shook the rain from his long fur, the movement purely a delaying tactic. He was stubbornly talking himself into this and Dean was going to be pissed if he found out. He would say the filthy creature wasn’t worth risking Sam, but Sam couldn’t believe that, it might be human-natured but the slave was still a living creature.

He would just have to make the risk as small as possible, make sure that no one found out. He would need to be quick.

With one last very thorough scan with his mind, the wolfling made absolutely sure that he and the Were definitely were alone and then he concentrated. 

Deep within, Sam felt for the well of power that he’d always had inside. It was like unclenching a muscle that was hardly ever used, or stretching after a really long nap. He freed the bright ball of energy and felt it flow out through his chest, down along his legs and into his paws. 

With the sweep of magic the wolf felt a tingle like a cold wind shiver over him as his fur disappeared, his bones and muscles reshaping like mud squelching under a paw. 

Within moments the boy found himself kneeling in the mud, rain pelting hard on his naked skin. 

Lord of the Morning! It was cold without fur. Sam shivered feeling a renewed well of pity for the werewolf. 

He pushed the thought away and staggered up (way up) to his unfamiliar feet. He felt a brief moment of vertigo, the ground much further away then he was used to and his balance far more precarious on only two legs. He hadn’t attempted a full shift since the time Dean had caught him years ago and this body he was now in felt unfamiliar and wrong and he didn’t have time to acclimatize. 

The man-shaped wolf was awkward as he moved, but he quickly crouched and wrapped his hands under the Were’s armpits - thankful he had at least spent time practicing with fingers! 

Hoisting the thing up, he carefully placed clumsy bare feet and made his way through the slippery grass, dragging his burden towards the nearest strand of trees. 

Sam ignored the thrill in the back of his mind that told him he had been right. Hands _were_ much easier for dragging things. His plan was working. It was going to be fine, he just had to hurry!

—o0o—

Lily was in a panic.

Ava had come back to their den space distressed over the conversation she’d had with Dean. Lily had perhaps been a little vehement in her response, asking what the other had expected associating with such a deviant wolf. The argument had gone rapidly downhill. It had ended with them snarling in each other's faces before she’d sunk her teeth into Ava’s shoulder. The other wolf had fled sobbing. Of course Lily hadn't _meant_ to actually bite her, she’d been aiming for a nip and overreacted. The whole argument just made her so frustrated. 

Lily had never been pleased with how Ava and Dean joked together, like every conversation they had was specifically designed to mock and exclude her. She might have taken that out on Ava now that it seemed her bad impressions of Dean had been proven right all along. But really she hadn't meant to bite her. She had called for Ava to come back but of course Ava hadn’t listened. 

Now Lily couldn't find her. The pale grey wolf had searched the whole Pack grounds from the slave pit, to the pup den to the training area - nothing. Panic building she decided to go back through the pouring rain and check the den spaces one last time, she would then have to search the surrounding woods. Summer storms were bad for flash flooding and Small River was temperamental. She wouldn’t be happy if Ava was out there alone in the woods, too distressed to pay attention.

Lilly began to run. 

The wolf had just rounded the Pack Leader’s hill when all thoughts of Ava and flash floods fled her mind. A strange blob of pink colour appeared through the torrent, resolving into the shape of two human creatures. 

Lord of The Morning save and preserve us! An _unknown_ human creature with the Pack slave - in the _middle_ of the main grounds!

As Lily howled the alarm as loudly as she could, she wondered fearfully how the filthy thing had gotten past the sentries, and if there were any more.

—o0o—

At the first sound of alarm Sam dropped the slave and spun in shock. Lilly stood at the base of the hill looking right at him, the pale wolf frantically howling. Response howls were already beginning to echo back from all quarters.

The shock inside Sam exploded into a physical sensation, his power reacting on impulse, and the young wolf instantly found himself back on four paws, his chestnut fur getting heavy with water, and his legs sprawling in all directions as he became disoriented and lost traction on the slippery ground.

From his sprawled position he watched stunned as wolves arrived from all directions, appearing through the rain as if by magic. 

Lily hadn’t stopped howling when she realized the intruder was Sam, in fact she had renewed her howls with added outrage. Sam had been _Shifted_! No wolf had shifted within the Pack in untold generations. The act was unthinkable. It was blasphemy of the most evil kind. It proved how right she had been in her argument with Ava, how unnatural Sam and Dean were, how perverse. 

The newly arrived wolves seemed confused at first, not finding the expected hordes of invaders, but with Lily screaming that Sam had shifted, and with him still laying sprawled alongside the human-natured slave - the wolf’s outrage could not be denied. She was adamant in her accusations - and extremely loud.

A cautious group of snarling Pack members surrounded the young wolf and Sam saw no way that he could evade the truth. He dropped his head to the muck, tucking in his tail and flattening his ears - making himself as small and unthreatening as possible.

This wasn't good. Dean was definitely going to be pissed.

—o0o—

Dean’s first thought as the alarm howled out, was for Sam.

When Dean had returned to their den after leaving Ava, the young wolf had still been absent, but Sam hated the rain and would be back soon. Dean had found himself a nice thick clump of bushes and wormed himself underneath them to wait.

He hadn't been waiting long when the first howl split the air. The answering cries came almost immediately as wolves responded to the urgency. But what worried Dean was that the howls hadn't originated on the perimeter. 

If the Pack were under attack from outsiders the calls should come from the far sentries. These cries were coming from within the grounds themselves. He had no idea what could have snuck in unnoticed but Sam was out there somewhere. The young wolf was an excellent fighter but if the intruders were already inside the Pack grounds then Dean needed to have eyes on his brother. 

He got up and began to run.

—o0o—

Brady charged up the hill as fast as his paws would carry him, he crossed the grass and entered the den cave without waiting for permission. 

Having heard the commotion Yellow Eyes didn't berate the white wolf yet, he cocked his head in question.

“It's Sam.” Brady panted, his tongue hanging from his mouth as he drew in huge lungfuls of air, winded from his sprint. “Lily caught him shifting into Human. Shifting! Full human! No fur! Full-on, filthy, Human.” The incredulous disgust from the wolf was palpable as he stuttered almost incoherently, he hadn’t even stopped to shake the rain from his fur as he paced the cave, growling in agitation.

Yellow Eyes snarled in rage, not so much over the wolfling shifting, although why the pup would even want to was beyond him, but more over the stupidity of the pup for allowing himself to get caught. This was grievously going to hinder his plans. 

The traditional punishment for shifting was death. The Pack Laws were strict even if the sentence hadn’t been needed in generations. Wolves could not give monster-kind any reason to use their dual-natures against them. If word of this got out to The Council of Monsters...

Lord of the Morning! Curse the stupid wolfling! Yellow Eyes would not allow this to ruin everything he had worked so hard for, not now.

“Brady!” He snapped his fangs in the other’s face and let some of his power trickle out. 

Brady stopped his pacing and dropped low to the floor. “Yes Alpha!”

“Summon the Pack Council immediately, I will meet them below. Meanwhile order Max to take five of your most loyal wolves and have Dean publicly and loudly arrested. No need to be too gentle. Dean is not strong in magic, Max will be sufficient to Bind him pending trial. Keep him in the slave pit. Leave Max and another to stand guard.”

“Yes Alpha!... but why Dean? What of Sam?”

The Alpha spared a moment to give his underling a look of contempt. “Arrest Dean first because there is no way we will be able to do anything with the pup if he is free to interfere. And as for Sam, this situation needs to be handled very carefully.” In order for his plans to continue Yellow Eyes needed to find some way to show leniency to the wolfling while controlling the damage to his reputation, despite the grave and unfortunately _public_ nature of his crimes.

“Have the _Pup_ brought to me,” he emphasized the word ‘pup’ strongly, “I will Bind him myself. Publicly inform the Pack that I will personally investigate this matter so that my council can make an informed decision for the greater good of all. But Brady? Be firm when you bring Sam in and leave no doubt to the gravity of the situation. However make it clear to anyone who asks that though it is the equinox, since he has not been officially recognized by the Council Sam is still considered a pup. One who has been under _malicious_ influences from that degenerate brother of his.”

Brady nodded but Yellow Eyes wasn’t finished “Also go see Lily yourself. I want to know everything she saw, every detail. Then command her to be silent. Have every Pack member return to their dens until The Council has met. A full Pack meeting will be held in due course and justice will be served but until then they should leave the matter to their leaders.”

Brady hurried from the cave while Yellow Eyes remained deep in thought. The Pack would be out for blood and the Wolves as a group must be seen to deal harshly with this stain on their reputation. He would need to ensure that the blood that he gave the Pack was not Sam’s. It looked like Dean wouldn't be getting Shunned after all.

—o0o—

When Dean arrived at the base of the hill there was a huge group of agitated wolves but no sign of the expected intruders.

The rain was still falling hard as Dean scanned the milling group looking for Sam’s chestnut head and ash markings, the tall young wolf should have been visible above the crowd but Dean couldn’t find his brother.

The white of Brady’s coat however was shining through the gloom. The other wolf stood tall in front of the gathering trying to get the enraged wolves to calm down, instructing them to return to their dens and that the matter was under control.

His words calmed Dean a little. Perhaps the intruder howl had been a false alarm, which would mean that he didn’t need to be quite so worried about Sam. And loathe as he was to admit it, if anyone had their nose to the ground about what was going on it would be the council lackey. He would also be the best wolf to ask if anyone had seen Sam.

Dean began to push through the crowd calling out to Brady. He wasn’t thinking about his recent loss of popularity and he certainly wasn’t expecting the shoulder that rammed into his side and bowled him from his paws.

“There he is!” The accusation was snarled through a mouth of fangs by a wolf Dean had thought was a friend, “He’s the cause of all this. Turning young pups against the proper ways of the Lord of the Morning. Turning them against everything it means to be Pack! Encouraging _Human_ perversions!”

“I heard that he’s been consorting with outsider human-natured filth,” someone else howled from the back of the pack.

“The Lord of the Morning cursed him to be infertile, has to be a reason for that.” Shouted someone else.

Lord of the Morning! What the ever loving fuck was going on?! Dean scrambled in the wet grass to regain his paws but all around, wolves he had known his entire life, pressed into his space growling and snarling. Someone darted in from behind to snap at his flank, but when he spun to confront them they had melted back into the crowd and another wolf was already snapping from behind him.

Unable to get his bearings Dean yelped as an unexpected claw suddenly slashed his haunches, drawing blood. He had no idea what was going on but his patience was gone. The gold wolf snarled angrily, biting and clawing at any wolf that came in reach. This was going to get ugly fast.

“STOP!” The command came from Brady, and surprisingly carried a lot more power than the Wolf usually displayed. It held the faintest echo of Alpha command and was enough to cause the snarling Pack to back off. Looked like Brady had been holding out on them, Dean thought warily as he panted, ignoring the burn of the wound on his haunch.

With the new breathing space, Dean pushed himself up to stand tall on his paws. Adrenaline raged in his blood and he glared at the Pack as they moved back but kept him encircled. He vaguely became aware that blood was also trickling from a long scratch across his nose and he hadn’t even noticed, it wasn’t exactly the biggest of his worries just now.

“Max! Jake!” Brady called loudly, “take Dean to the slave pit. He is under arrest.” 

Arrest? Dean stood shocked as the Pack murmured vindictively, but Brady was still speaking. “He is to be Bound there and kept under guard until trial is arranged.” This last was for the benefit of the crowd, the guards knew their orders and were already moving.

Max, Jake and four large other wolves pushed forward. 

“I haven’t done anything!” Dean snarled, crouching, tightening his muscles and preparing to throw himself at Jake and go down fighting, but he paused as Brady preemptively met his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be stupid.” the white wolf said. “...you know full well that your crimes are the perversions you have perpetrated on the young pup Sam.” And there was something in the other’s voice, some knowing smirk that raised Dean’s hackles. 

Dean froze at the mention of Sam’s name but couldn’t help the way his lips pulled back from his teeth and his tongue worked against his fangs like he was trying to clear a foul taste from his mouth. He had a very bad feeling about this.

“Where’s Sam?” He demanded, ignoring the rest for the moment. He looked Brady hard in the eye, his lips still pulled up in a snarl.

Instead of answering, Brady just grinned and Dean felt his blood run cold.

Max and the others encircled the gold wolf, forcing him with growls and quick bites to move away from the hill and towards the slave pit. Dean put up only token resistance. Wherever Sam was he would need Dean in one piece and ready to fight. So the wolf held his rage in check and moved as directed… for now.

The walk through the communal grounds was quick and the slave pit was empty when they reached it. No sign of its usual inhabitant. There had been some talk about the Were when Dean had first arrived back at the hill. He hadn’t caught any details, too intent on his search for Sam.

The guards however didn’t seem concerned about the Were’s absence, they were too busy herding Dean into the center of the muddy ring. 

Jake in particular gave a vicious swipe with one paw during the process, connecting so heavily with the back of Dean’s head that he left a ringing in the wolf’s ears. As Dean stumbled he swore to himself that if any harm had come to Sam he would make sure to kill Jake first; straight after he killed Brady.

With the prisoner finally in place, the guards didn’t hang about, all backing swiftly away. Except for Max. The brown wolf stayed front and center staring creepily at Dean. That one had always been a freak but this was taking things to a whole new level. 

It wasn’t until the cold shiver of magic prickled Dean’s fur that he realized why. He had been Bound. Magic wasn’t exactly Dean’s forte but he knew enough about Binding to know that it stopped the Were slave from escaping. Tentatively he paced to the edge of the pit but even as he raised his paw he already knew it was hopeless - none of the guards had moved to stop him. Still he had to try.

It was like invisible stones surrounded him, rock that he could feel against his nose but couldn’t see or smell. He tried scratching at it, it didn’t move. Not that he had thought it would. 

Dejectedly Dean realized that he wasn’t going anywhere. Max, proving himself as much of a freak as Dean had suspected, laughed obnoxiously before he dismissed the others. Only he and Jake remained - with the Bond in place they didn’t need more guards. The two sat down on their haunches turning their backs on the prisoner, looking for all the world like they were having a lazy afternoon in the communal area and not guarding a desperate prisoner in the pouring rain.

Dean returned to the center of the mud circle and lay down. There was no clean spot in the pit so he might as well just accept he was going to get dirty, his fur was already heavy with rain water and blood. Thinking of which, he twisted back on himself as best as he could to lick clean the gash on his haunch. And as he did so, he thought. 

Now that he had breathing space his mind replayed what had just happened. He had been arrested! Taken to the slave pit and Bound like a…. a filthy slave! Wolves he had known his whole life had turned on him snarling and screaming accusations! And for what? Something about some perversions and hurting Sammy. 

They had said there would be a trial. He had no idea what this was all about and no one had given him a chance to speak, but it sounded like more of what Ava had been spouting at the river. Except that this was far too extreme. What the fuck had happened? He had known that the Pack was gossiping about them, but that wasn’t cause for arrest. A trial was practically unheard of in the Pack. Something terrible must have happened and the worst thing was that he had no idea what.

But there was one thing he was absolutely certain of. His first priority was finding out what had happened to his brother and making sure that Sammy was okay. If anyone had harmed his wolfling he would tear each and every one of them apart, Pack or not. And he decided that if it came to killing, he would add Max to his list of Jake and Brady, just for good measure.

He really hoped that Sam was okay.

—o0o—


	8. Chapter 8

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 8**

_The Longest Day continues_

Sam was not okay, he was worried.

He had lain in the mud, harried by the less-than-happy Pack, until Brady descended from the Pack Leader’s hill, the white wolf immediately presenting a cool air of authority. 

Assuming command, he'd instructed that ‘the Pup’ be taken directly to Yellow Eyes, that the Alpha would be handling the situation personally. That had placated most of the crowd. Sam had been forced to his paws and led towards the hill while Brady had turned to speak quietly to Max.

Tensions in the crowd behind the young wolf had fallen once someone in authority had taken control but they had still been shocked by the day’s unusual events, excitedly talking over what each had seen and heard. The hubbub had caused Brady to pause his dealings with Max long enough to instruct them to disperse.

That had been all Sam had seen as he was led away. He had desperately looked back trying to find his brother in the crowd, lifting his nose to the water laden air, but there had been no sign of Dean. 

The journey up the hill had been fraught with worry but the worst bit had been reaching the top and being led straight to the rear and into the Pack Leader’s cave, with no chance for questions.

Sam had never been in Alpha’s personal den before. He was momentarily distracted by the surprising amount of space. Not that he had long to study it because the Pack Leader himself was lounging in the center of the dry sandy floor and the sight of the Alpha renewed the young wolf’s fear.

Sam didn’t like Yellow Eyes, never had - even before he had reprimanded the pup over John’s death. But fundamentally Sam just didn’t _trust_ the Pack Leader. There was something about the wolf that left a cold feeling in his bones and a bad taste in his mouth - like the faintest hint of rotten eggs. That feeling was especially amplified when Yellow Eyes was using magic. And the Alpha had started to do so as soon Sam entered the cave. It pressed against Sam’s mind like a malignant swarm of hornets.

Sam’s paws moved without conscious command, backing him away from the threat but he managed only a few paces before he felt the Bond snap into place around him. A circle of magic encompassed the cave, cutting off all sense of the Pack. The young wolf felt like he had been blinded. He didn’t even have to try leaving to know he wouldn’t be able to. 

Strangely that was all Yellow Eyes did. Sam had been dreading what ever sentence was to be pronounced but seemingly satisfied that there was nothing Sam could do while Bound, the Pack Leader just left. He stepped past the chestnut youngster like he was below consideration. He hadn’t even spoken. 

Sam was left alone, and being Bound he had no choice but to wait. At first he was grateful for the reprieve. The young wolf thought over everything that had happened, trying to sort it out in his mind while he paced his empty prison. (There was nothing in the cave to distract him. Wolves didn’t keep Artifacts - apparently not even Pack Leaders - so the 15 paces it took for him to cross the sandy floor and turn were unobstructed.)

He was starting to understand the seriousness of his circumstances. And his thoughts were becoming as circular as his pacing. What would happen now? Where was Dean? Was he okay?

Time passed. Unable to see the sky, it was hard for Sam to tell exactly how much - but neither the Alpha, nor any other wolf, returned. 

A wolf in a Pack was never alone. Sam hadn’t realized how much he relied on the feel of the Pack in the back of his mind and the bright warmth of his brother always within reach. Now darkness surrounded Sam’s senses and the rock of the cave blocked his sight. He was physically isolated and mentally adrift in his sea of troubles.

He had no idea how severe his punishment would be; either Shunning or death could be very real possibilities, and the Alpha’s direct involvement, while puzzling, couldn’t mean anything good.

Sunk miserably in his thoughts Sam stopped his pacing. It wasn’t helping. Choosing a corner in the back of the cave he lay down, deciding he would just need to wait for whatever came next.

He tried to not give in to despair, telling himself Dean would have an idea what to do. But thoughts of his brother didn’t help. 

He might have stopped his paws from pacing but it seemed he couldn’t stop his mind.

His brother must be frantic by now. 

He really hoped that Dean was okay.

—o0o—

The pup was contained and the brother was in custody. That, Yellow Eyes thought to himself as he descended from his hill, averted the first crisis. Now all he needed to do was manage the shit-storm the foolish young pup had caused within the Pack.

Rain still pounded the earth as the Pack Leader loudly greeted his waiting council. A roll of thunder echoed him in agreement. The weather was a perfect accompaniment to his mood.

The Alpha formally called his council to order, to: ‘discuss the nature of these most disturbing events’. The pomp and ceremony was for the benefit of any wolves yet lingering on their way back to their dens. But it never hurt to set the tone, even if the council was firmly under his control.

The proper atmosphere established, the wolf turned, skirting the unconscious Were who lay discarded in the mud and re-climbed his hill, the council following in his tracks. 

Despite their sodden fur and the constant rumble of thunder, the wolves sat in conclave at the grassy edge of the plateau, ensuring they would be visible from below but not overhead.

Brady opened with a report of everything that Lily has seen. Relaying how she had raised the alarm after encountering a human shaped intruder only for it to turn into the young wolf Sam right before her eyes. 

Wolves technically could not lie. Their expert use of body language as a means of communication, combined with the undertones received in their telepathic communications, meant that deliberate deceit was easily detectable. ‘Dishonesty’ had become a foreign concept, considered a disgustingly _human_ attribute - if the concept was even considered at all. And really what good wolf within the Pack had anything to hide?

There was no reason for the Council to doubt Lily’s report - or Sam’s guilt.

Yellow Eyes however was a master at dissembling and misdirection. Statements only needed to be started with: “It’s possible…” - to turn them from a lie, into supposition. If the sentence was delivered with enough authority the wolves would take the information as fact, never questioning its honesty.

Now the Pack Leader was quick to condemn Dean for his unnatural influences over Sam, who was, after all, officially still an underage pup. It seemed clear to the Alpha that Sam must have gotten his proclivities from somewhere. The very young could not be held fully accountable for their actions after all.

(The council agreed with their Alpha.)

And since Sam was still a pup in the eyes of the Law, it was the Pack Leader’s opinion he should not be tried as an adult. 

“...Especially since it would be a shame for the Pack to lose such a promising young wolf.” Yellow eyes concluded “being young, we might yet be able to reeducated him. Dean however is a different matter. As a fully mature and reasoned adult, his actions in cultivating this perversity are unconscionable. He seems to be far past the point of redemption.”

(The Council agreed yet again.)

In the late afternoon gloom with the rain finally starting to ease, though the clouds remained heavy and foreboding; the council was adjourned.

Brady sent a runner to inform every wolf that a full Pack meeting would be scheduled for sunset, every member to be in attendance.

Yellow Eyes returned to his cave, his thoughts on the young wolf bound within. But true to his usual form he called back one last order to Brady before he disappeared.

“And tell someone to get that filthy Were off of the bottom of my hill.”

Dean didn’t move as two new wolves approached with the werewolf in tow. 

Teeth buried in its forearms they dragged the semi conscious creature, leaving a faint trail of blood behind them in the wet earth. Neither wolf glanced at Dean as they deposited the slave. They didn’t need to, Jake and Max stood ready from their positions on the perimeter, glaring menacingly just in case Dean got any ideas. 

Shaking his fur, Dean tried to clear a little of the mud from himself now that the rain was easing. He didn’t move otherwise though, because he _didn’t_ have any ideas. 

The slave was Bound to the central Pack grounds - allowed to move about to answer commands. But Max had Bound Dean specifically to the pit. Even if he successfully overpowered the two new wolves, he still wouldn’t be getting out of the ring.

The newcomers left, relieved of their burden and complaining loudly about the foul taste in their mouths. The chance for action passed and Max and Jake once again settled back to ignoring him. 

Left to himself Dean turned his attention to his fellow pit-mate. 

The pit wasn’t big; a rough circle of muddy ground 20 paces across and it wasn't actually a pit. It gained its name only because it was a slight muddy depression in an otherwise flat area. 

The Were had been dumped just inside the far edge.

Dean hadn’t moved from the center. 

He eyed the semi-conscious beast across a gap of only ten paces of mud. It wasn’t far enough for his liking.

Exactly _how_ the slave had been involved in whatever happened to Sam, Dean didn’t know, but he knew that it had to have been involved _somehow_. The quiet simmer of rage within his belly was tempting him to kill the thing on principle alone. But he had also had the unpleasant thought that - if he could come up with a way to communicate with the dumb beast - he might finally get some answers about what had happened.

He was still trying to overcome his repulsion at the idea when he noticed that the thing was unconscious once again. Dean sighed. This day had already been far too long.

—o0o—

The sun finally set on the summer equinox; a day that should have been full of celebration but instead had been marred with havoc and confusion. As if to make up for this, above the damp green trees the cloud strewn sky ran through a brilliant display of reds bleeding into crimson before settling into somber purples. The longest day giving one last hurrah before the shadows lengthened and darkness filled the hollows.

Normally the Pack grounds were quiet as light faded from the sky. There might be the odd meal-time squabble, a few wolves heading out for a night hunt, or the cries of a one or two amorous companions; but not much more.

Not today. This night the communal area was filled to overflowing with every single wolf except the sentries. The noise of over a hundred and fifty wolves, milling about while speculating on what would occur, was enough to silence the evening crickets and send the local wildlife scrambling for burrows and nests.

With the storm cleared, the night air was left clean, imbued with the rich smell of wet earth and crushed grass. And for the first time since that morning Dean caught the scent of his brother.

Max had unbound the prisoner and surrounded him with a circle of six guards to bring him to trial. Disheveled and limping slightly from the slash across his haunch, Dean had been led through the communal grounds to stand at the bottom of the Pack Leader’s hill. 

Growls and snarls had risen from the crowd as he passed. Like before wolves who he had thought were friends looked at him with horror and rage in their eyes. In the space of one day he had fallen from being an upstanding Pack Member to something so disgusting they could barely stand to look at him. He might as well have been human rather than wolf. It was inconceivable that in the space of one day everything good about him had been forgotten, but not a single face he saw held any pity or understanding. And despite having thought about the matter all day, he still had no idea what he was supposed to actually have done.

Dean made it through the crowd to find that the Pack Leader and the Council were already present. Sam had been placed in their midst and the scent of the young wolf’s distress was the first thing to reach Dean’s nose.

Sam looked despondent, his tail tucked and his head low. The wolfling hadn’t been paying attention to the growls of the crowd but as soon as he smelled his brother his head shot up. 

Dean instantly knew something was wrong. Sam looked panicked, drawing in desperate lungfuls of air, trying to inhale as much of the familiar scent as he could, despite still being separated by 30 paces and a ring of guards. 

Dean expected to be swamped in a wave of the pup’s fear and worry, but the anticipated touch on his mind never came. Sam was sneaky, even if he had been commanded to stay silent he should have been able to send something to his brother, some feelings at least, without anyone else hearing. But the space within Dean’s mind remained empty. Something was definitely wrong. Well, more wrong - because he hadn’t forgotten that he was on trial here.

Yellow Eyes turned slightly and growled something to the pup. Sam’s head dropped his head in dejection, though his eyes still darted constantly to his brother. 

Dean rumbled low in his chest. By the Lord of the Morning, he was gonna rip out the lungs of each and every one who had helped put that look on his brother’s face. 

Max didn’t let him get further than rumbling, snarling at him to be silent and frustrated, Dean had no choice but to obey. He could see Sam right there, so close but totally out of reach. If Dean raised his claws to wipe that look off Max’s face, he would be overpowered by the other guards immediately and where would that leave Sam?! 

For the moment, Dean was back to waiting, and he hated it.

Now that every wolf was assembled and the prisoner had arrived the Alpha sent out his thoughts to quiet the gathering, beginning formal proceedings. Before the rapt attention of the Pack, he lamented the grievous nature of the day’s occurrence and spoke of how important it was for Pack to abide by the Law and do right by the Lord of the Morning. He informed them that the decision made this night would be for the good of the whole Pack. No single wolf could ever be placed over the well-being of the whole.

Lilly was called first to give her testimony. Standing before the Pack, head held high, the pale grey wolf stated in simple but direct terms what she had witnessed. She seemed much calmer this evening than her frantic accusations of the afternoon and her words carried weight. Quiet growls from the crowd punctuated her statements.

Dean heard for the first time what had happened. Fuck. This was bad. What the fuck had Sam been thinking? Not only shifting, but doing it in the middle of Pack grounds in the middle of the day? Sam knew better than that! He should have known better than to shift at all! Curse his pig-headed obsession with human things. No wonder the Pack had been treating Dean like some kind of human-sympathizer. He would have received more leniency for murdering pups than he would for allowing Sam to explore the evils of human nature. They would be lucky if they were just Shunned.

He still had no idea why Sam had shifted this time, but Dean was more suspicious than ever of that disgusting Were. He should have put a stop to Sam watching the thing years ago. He could have killed it and only received a mild reprimand for inconveniencing the Alpha. It would have saved them all this trouble.

But the whys and how’s weren’t important to the wolves. There would be nothing that could justify these actions in their eyes and to some extent Dean couldn't blame them. But there had to be some way he could make them see that Sammy wasn’t really like that. It was just a mistake, a fascination the pup had taken too far. Sam was still a good wolf. 

Brady rose to testify next. The white wolf used all his charm and eloquence as he spoke of how Dean had kept Sam isolated from the good influences of the Pack. He reported an unhealthy codependency and an unnaturally deep bond through which the older brother exerted his control. Brady proposed that the pup’s fascination for evil had begun with their Sire who had encouraged them to place themselves above the good of the Pack as a whole. And steeped in perversion, Dean had continued this tradition after their sire died. Leading the vulnerable young pup further and further from the Lord of the Morning’s light. He concluded with how well known it was that infertility was a sign of the Lord’s displeasure and how the gold wolf had failed to sire pups despite two matings. It was a sorry situation that the pup Sam had been subjected to such influences all his life.

Dean was livid. He had wanted to find a way to spare Sam. He knew this was his fault, as the oldest he should have known better, tried harder to stop Sam before they got to this point. But this?? Every single fact had been twisted into something that bore no resemblance to the truth. The whole thing was…. it was all _lies_. He would never do anything to hurt Sam or encourage him in any way to hurt himself. Never!

Howls and snarls of condemnation bellowed from the Pack, drowning out Dean’s own snarls of rage. Cries of; “Shun him,” were quickly turning to “Death Sentence! Death to him!” and the uproar was deafening.

Yellow Eyes seemed unconcerned by the unseemly ruckus as he waited patiently for the Council to call the Pack back to order. It took a long while for the agitated crowd to settle down but once their attention was again on their Leader, the Alpha stepped forward to give his conclusion. 

“It is the finding of the Wolf Council that the pup Sam is guilty of shifting to human form.” There were quiet rumbles of disgust. “However!” Yellow Eyes loudly overrode them this time, letting the smallest trickle of his power seep through to silence the gathering, “the Pup has not yet been formally acknowledged as a full Pack Member and has been cruelty subjected to corrupt and malicious influences for _years_ . It is to the Pack’s _shame_ that nothing was done sooner to rescue a poor young wolf from such circumstances.” 

There was silence from the crowd after that, the attitude shifting as no one wanted to be singled out as an accomplice for ignoring abuse to a pup.

“It is the decree of the Council,” the Alpha continued, “that the pup Sam be bound to my service indefinitely. For the greater good of the Pack and to attempt to salvage a valuable young wolf, I will do everything in my power to remove this stain from our good name. With time and re-education this poor wolf might be saved and these heinous proclivities - although forced upon him without his consent - might be purged.” The Pack Leader’s control was exquisite, by the time he had finished speaking his wolves were murmuring in approval, practically yipping with admiration for their Alpha.

“BUT!” He roared above the acclaim, now ready to work them once more into a frenzy. “There can be NO tolerance for a Full Pack Member who forces his perversions upon young pups, fostering within our own good Pack the evil that led to the fall of the world! It is the decree of the council that the wolf Dean be sentenced to death.”

The howl of agreement from the Pack was deafening and once again the Alpha let his Council take their time restoring order.

Silence was slow to return, the Pack scenting blood, but once they finally settled the accused was given a last chance to speak.

As a Pup, Sam wasn’t deemed qualified to respond, but Dean had the opportunity to speak in their defense. Typically he should have used the time to plead for leniency. Dean however was so enraged that it took him several moments to gather himself. He had no intention of pleading for mercy, he would die before he gave them the satisfaction of begging. 

Every word from Yellow Eyes had been twisted to deceive. Dean would never have thought that a wolf could lie in such a manner. The very concept was as disgusting as the things they were being accused of. It was just as evil as any other human thing. But there was nothing he could say to accuse the Alpha. Who would believe a perverted human-sympathizer over the Pack Leader? There was equally no point in appealing to the Alpha for justice, he obviously had no understanding of the concept. Instead Dean turned towards the Pack. 

Pack opinion had turned against him recently (Dean was now certain that Yellow Eyes was behind that) but these were still wolves he had grown up with, hunted with, trained with, enjoyed as companions. He hated all things human just as much as they did. There had to be some way he could prove to the Pack that he and Sam were still the same good upstanding wolves they had always been and not these filthy lies.

“You know me!” Dean called out, “I’m no Outsider, not some filthy human sympathizer! I believe in Pack and in the Law. I would never do anything to hurt our Pack!” No one looked convinced and he searched for an ally, just one person who would vouch for him. 

Jess stood quietly at the farthest edge of the gathering. She wasn’t meeting his eyes but she wasn’t snarling either. “Jess!” Dean tried desperately, “how many years have we fought alongside each other, protecting the Pack from intruders?! We’ve patrolled together, hunted together, brought back food for everyone - have I ever done anything that wasn't for the good of the Pack?! Tell them! Tell them I would never do anything to hurt the Pack and NOTHING to hurt Sam!”

Every pair of eyes turned to the sandy blond wolf. She was well respected and known as a loyal commander both in hunting and defense. Her words might not absolve Dean but they would certainly muddy the waters.

Looking around herself though Jess was uncertain. She absolutely could not imagine Dean doing what he was accused of but the fact remained that Sam _had_ shifted. What could have caused a good wolf like Sam to do something so evil she didn’t know. She was shaken to the core and had no idea what to think. Raising her eyes she looked to her Alpha. 

Yellow Eyes stared right back his eyes like granite, there was no leniency in his gaze.

Jess shook her ruff and lowered her ears, she had to give an answer. Her sending when she spoke was soft but every Pack member stilled to hear her. 

“ _We Skinwalkers especially must take heed of our animal natures and always uphold the values of Pack and family and strength in unity. No one wolf is ever more valuable than the whole Pack and only by staying together as one and obeying the laws can we stay strong. We bear the taint of mankind hidden inside our skins and we must always be vigilant against it._

_“If we follow the laws and do our best to honor the ways of the Lord of The Morning then all will be well. But if we ever forget the new ways and fall into the old ways of Men - then the Lord will be forced to return and he would have no option but to destroy us all.”_

As the Pack howled it’s approval, Yellow Eyes smiled coldly, his fangs gleaming in the night. The bottom drop out of Dean’s stomach. If even Jess had turned against them they had no hope.

Within his chest rage fought with despair. Rage won. He didn’t stop to think. Howling mindlessly Dean threw himself towards the Alpha, trying to scramble over his guards, seeing only a red-misted vision of himself tearing out the Pack Leader’s throat.

Max and Jack reacted instantly, throwing themselves on the prisoner and dragging him to the ground with their weight. 

Dean was too far gone to stop. It took all six guards to subdue him. He kept howling and slashing at anything that came in range even though he never stood a chance against six at once. Max had his fangs sunk into Dean’s ruff, Jake was battering at his muzzle with his heavy paws, another guard had his hind leg clamped between his jaws and was worrying his hamstring, he didn’t even know where the others were, just felt their weight and the random pain that bloomed in new places. 

Eventually one of Jake’s paws connected heavily enough to knock him out but the guards took several more moments clawing and battering before they stepped back from his unconscious form, leaving the gold wolf a blood sodden mess in the grass. 

While Dean fought his guards like an enraged bear, Yellow Eyes had been forced to expend a surprising amount of magic to physically pin the pup Sam in place. The young wolf’s own rage had battered against the Alpha’s hold just as savagely as his brother fought with tooth and claw, but the Pack Leader still outmatched the untrained pup and no matter how hard Sam struggled he couldn’t move to help his brother.

When Dean finally lay unconscious Sam subsided in despair and the Alpha was able to command that Dean be removed from the meeting and Bound once again to the slave pit. 

Max and Jake were savage as they grabbed the unresisting wolf, sinking teeth viciously into his flesh as they dragged him away.

Throughout this all, the Council had sought in vain to restore order to the meeting which had descended into chaos. The Pack were enraged, howling and screaming that this was proof that the wolf Dean should be sentenced to death immediately.

Finally losing patience with the whole affair, Yellow Eyes loosed a roaring snarl, his presence beating at the air like a swarm of harpies. In an instant every Pack member became silent, throwing themselves flat and bending their necks in submission.

The Alpha allowed the stillness to sit heavy before he released the Pack to rise. Then in the calmest of voices he announced: the ruling of the council was that the Pup Sam’s re-education begin immediately. Until deemed cured, he would be Bound to the Pack Leader’s hill - so as to not infect others with his perversions. For the wolf Dean however, there could be no redemption. He would be put to death at sunset the following night. Bound in the center of the packgrounds, he would be torn limb from limb by the pack en mass.

Yellow Eyes finished by turning his blazing golden eyes upon the crowd - meeting gaze after gaze after gaze. “If this Council ruling is the will of the Pack then let all who are in agreement raise their voices now.”

The howls shattered the night and shook the trees, and this time the Alpha didn’t quiet them. 

—o0o—


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - warning Ruby/Sam non con - sex spell  
> Scene is non graphic - see notes at the end if you want more details

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 9**

The night of the summer equinox had been the worst night of his life. Sam had never known such fear and rage as when he’d watched his brother brutally beaten unconscious by six other wolves as the whole Pack howled for his blood. And Sam had been utterly powerless to help him.

Dean was the epitome of Wolfhood; a large golden wolf, fur sleek and thick, fierce and confident, assurance clear in his every line from the tip of his proud ears to the end of his jauntily-held tail. But in the dark of last night, when the ring of guards had finally parted, Dean had been a shrunken silent lump of blood-soaked muddy fur. The cruel juxtaposition had been devastating.

At the start of the meeting, Yellow Eyes had unpinned Sam’s Bond from the cave but had somehow been able to carry it with him like a leash. The wall around the young wolf had kept him bereft of his brother’s presence in his mind. To see him but not feel him had been torture. And once the fighting had been done there had been no way for Sam to tell if his brother even still lived.

He had moved through a rollercoaster of emotions as the trail had progressed; guilt that he had condemned Dean to suffer, rage that the Pack Leader would twist the truth into lies, into fear for what would become of them. By the time Dean had been dragged away and their sentences announced, he’d just felt numb. 

As the trial was dismissed it was almost like his body was returned to the cave with him being dragged along behind, a detached presence only vaguely tethered. The world had become a cold distant place. It had barely even registered when the Bond locked back around the cave.

It was the shortest night of the year but it had felt like the longest as the young wolf waited out the darkness. Time had passed only slowly until the morning approached and his numbness had faded. Prickles of worry had begun to crawl along the edges of the void like flies drawn to a rotting carcass. Feeling returned and he kinda wished it hadn’t. The reality of their situation was far worse. Dean was going to die and it was all Sam’s fault.

—o0o—

The sun rose that morning even though Sam felt like the sun would never shine again. 

Daylight filtered dimly into the mouth of the cave but the small entrance afforded nothing but a view of tall grasses and a tiny patch of brightening sky.

He hadn’t slept. After his grim retaliation Sam had moved from one horrible thought to the next, desperately trying to think of options or a way to save his brother, in between falling into long and pointless bouts of self recrimination. 

He had come up with nothing, and with the growing light outside - and the wall of darkness around his mind still blocking out the Pack - he was once more reminded of how very alone he was.

Sam was almost relieved when Yellow Eyes returned. At least the other provided a target for the impotent rage that now simmered in his belly, underneath his fear and regret.

The Alpha entered the cave with his power riding high. His countenance proud. The first thing he did was snarl a command for the young wolf to Submit. 

Sam’s legs folded on their own as power pressed him to the floor and forced his head down, but a defiant growl rumbled from his bared teeth as he refused to lower his eyes.

“Poor Sammy.” The Alpha’s regretful commiseration was obviously false, it seemed he was even more comfortable with lying than expected. “So mistreated and warped by perversion. Had to go and get his brother sentenced to death.” The words carried an undercurrent of glee that the wolf didn’t bother to hide. “Let’s see if we can’t make a good little wolf of you yet. Hmmmm?”

—o0o—

There was a cut over Sam’s left brow that trickled blood into his eyes, clouding his vision. There was a buzzing in his ears from where the Alpha’s heavy paw had knocked him to the ground. 

Yellow Eyes had started small. Sam was instructed to lower himself into a proper position of submission. Head and ears low, no snarling, eyes on the floor.

Sam refused. If Dean had been there he could have warned the Alpha that Sam had mastered Stubbornness at a very early age. Of course, if Dean had been there Sam would be rescued instead of being battered and bleeding. 

The Alpha might be able to force the young wolf down to the earthen floor, his power pressing on Sam’s mind like a weight, but the Pack Leader was unable to impose his will on Sam’s thoughts or make him bow voluntarily. And he could do nothing to prevent Sam’s small acts of defiance. 

When the larger wolf had failed to command obedience he had moved to more forceful persuasion. At the first blow Sam had lunged for the Alpha’s throat and he had needed to physically pin the young wolfing with magic to stop him. Thereafter more heavy swipes of his paws had rained down on the pup, trying to beat the young wolf into submission. Yet the Alpha had seemed strangely reluctant to unleash his claws other than the glancing strike that had opened the wound over Sam’s eye.

Having knocked the pup to the ground Yellow Eyes was now back to trying to force a compulsion. The Alpha’s own magic, augmented by his power as Pack Leader, allowed him to bend minds to his will. The weaker the mind or less stubborn in its defiance - the more control the Pack leader was able to exert.

Sam however, was neither weak nor lacking in stubborn defiance. No matter how hard the Alpha pressed at him the young wolf just grit his teeth and refused to submit, even through the ringing in his ears and the blood in his eyes.

Finally the yellow eyed wolf paced backwards regarding the young wolf in cold contemplation. 

“Sammy. Sammy. Sammy. You really don’t need to make this so hard on yourself you know.” In some ways the Alpha was pleased. So much raw power, so much more to gain once he bent the young wolf to his will. And yet the pup was severely testing his patience. Perhaps what he needed was a different approach. “I think you need to take some more time alone in contemplation, my young wolf.” His tone returning to that of a supposedly concerned mentor, “all this defiance does you no good. It is this same stubborn refusal to conform that has caused you to condemn your own brother to death.” 

That last blow hit Sam harder then any of the previous ones. The pup flinched. 

Yellow Eyes assumed the air of one greatly saddened by the folly of youth. He nodded sadly before turning and leaving the pup alone once more. 

He could see now that Sam wouldn’t be cowed by strength or pain. What would break the young wolf would be his own anguish. The Alpha would let him fester for a little longer. Then maybe he would have Ruby take a go at the pup. What could not be won by the force might be won with honey.

—o0o—

In the new morning light Yellow Eyes met with his Council. The day before had been momentous. There was much disruption within the Pack. He would take the council and spend the day once again touring the grounds, being seen to reassure his Pack. He would also subtly exert his influence, ensuring that they were eager to carry out the sentence at sunset.

By mid morning he was ready to set off but before he left he spoke privately to Ruby. She was to go to Sam and urge him to accept the new status quo. 

He expected the process would take time, but the sooner the stubborn young wolf started trusting her, the better. He also expected she would use sex. After all pups would still provide him with much needed leverage. To that end the Alpha had called on demonic magic and set the bitch into heat.

Ruby wasn’t happy about that. There was a low simmering in her belly, an itch under her skin and a throbbing in her snatch - it was unbearable.

She grumbled as she made her way up the hill and across to the cave. Sam had better be more receptive than he had been to her previous efforts.

Seriously who did she need to kill to get a fuck around here?!

—o0o—

Ruby, for some reason, had come into Season early. The smell of her filled the cave and wormed its way into Sam’s nose. 

Normally Sam wasn’t that bothered by a bitch in heat, but normally he wasn’t in an enclosed space and unable to leave.

In some ways it was nice to see the black wolf, she didn’t seem to have turned against him and the feeling of another wolf mind was comforting, especially with his Bond induced blindness cutting him off from his brother. However the only way she would be here in the Alpha’s den was with the Pack Leader’s permission and nothing she said could be trusted.

The first thing he had asked her was how Dean was. She had claimed he was fine, imprisoned in the pit and nothing more. She had been far more concerned with the minor cut above Sam’s eye.

Ruby refused to answer any more questions until he let her tend to it, insisting on licking it clean - thoroughly - her broad wet tongue moving down across his muzzle as she ‘diligently’ cleaned the blood from the surrounding fur. 

She pressed herself close as she worked, taking her time, and with her smell and proximity Sam couldn’t prevent his cock from peeking from his sheath. It was an automatic physical reaction. One he had every intention of ignoring.

As soon Ruby ran out of fur to ‘clean’ Sam stepped away from the bitch and moved to the opposite side of the cave. This began the most bizarre reverse courtship display ever. Sam attempted to get information about Dean while keeping his distance, while Ruby attempted to slide towards him without being obvious and without giving up any real information.

Ruby was becoming hugely frustrated, and not just sexually. She had even tried wheedling words about how sad it was to see Sam like this, and that all he had to do was show a little submission and Yellow Eyes would soon give him more freedom. Everything would go back to the way it was.

“Everything except my brother who only has until sunset to live!” Sam had replied bitterly, slipping away once more and still totally ignoring the fact that his cock was showing.

The day had worn on and it was well past noon when Ruby finally realized she wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. The fucking wolfling was still showing but he wasn’t even chubbed, let alone trying to mount, despite the stench of her heat. Either he had some kind of super-wolf powers or he really was broken. As for herself, she was about ready to dry hump the ground.

She left the cave in disgust and trotted down the hill, calling for the first wolf she saw. 

It was Andy, one of Jess’ friends. As soon as she caught his attention the black wolf ordered him to go to the Slave pit and tell the Were to present itself at the Pack Leaders den immediately.

Andy automatically assumed it was Pack Leader business and immediately agreed but as he turned to go he caught the scent of bitch in heat. 

He couldn’t help himself. The wolf spun back and crept towards the wondrous smell, his head held low as a pleading whine rattled from his throat. His cock slipped its sheath and he began to harden almost immediately, flagging his tail encouragingly, desperately hoping she would mimic.

Ruby didn’t mimic, she snarled. At least it was nice to know that _she_ wasn’t broken, but fucking Andy didn’t get to fucking whine like he was gagging for it after two heartbeats of scent, when she had been stuck like this all fucking morning. 

“I swear to the Lord of the Morning Andy, I will rip out your fucking throat if you come one step closer!” Andy stopped, confused at the vehemence and rejection. “Go get the Were NOW! And then make sure that NO ONE ELSE climbs the Pack Leader’s hill!” The last thing she needed was half the Pack trying to shove their noses under her tail.

Andy reluctantly moved to obey and Ruby found herself grumbling. Again.

Andy had wanted to mount her within 10 heartbeats of getting a sniff. Seriously what the fuck was wrong with Sam.

—o0o—

Sam watched warily when Ruby returned but she lingered by the mouth of the cave. Obviously waiting for something.

The scent in the cave was now suffocating and it felt like his blood was mixed with lightning. His cock had been unsheathed for so long that it was painful. He desperately needed to curl in on himself and apply his tongue until he came. He wished he had done so while she was gone, but now he stubbornly refused to give Ruby the satisfaction.

He was surprised, however, when after a little while the Were entered the cave. Sam was extremely glad to see that it was still alive but it certainly didn’t look good. Barely inside the entrance it swayed and then crumpled to the sandy floor, not a bow of submission just a boneless slump. It probably hadn’t had the strength to climb the hill, not that the Pack cared about such things for the slave. But Sam found that even now he still did. He would never have shifted if he had known what it would cost Dean but if the cost had just been to himself he would still have tried to help the poor creature.

Ruby lifted her paws and stepped over it like it was a rotting skunk she’d found on a trail. It groaned and seemed to rouse some as she slashed a claw down its arm, letting the blood pool on the floor. Yet it stayed where it was huddled, making no move to stem the flow, apparently used to such treatment. The arm wound was minor compared to its other still-healing injuries but Sam wasn’t sure it could spare even that much blood.

As if it had heard his thoughts, the Were looked up and met Sam’s eyes. So intense was its stare that the Wolfling wondered if the slave was trying to tell him something. It was inside the Bond limits but even still nothing entered Sam’s mind. He started to reach towards it anyway when Ruby hissed. “That’s enough! Get out and go back to your pit.”

The creature pulled itself up and stumbled out of the cave. As it left Sam realized that the whole time it hadn’t reacted to the scent of bitch in heat. Maybe it was too weak or it wasn’t affected. But before it disappeared from view it glanced back one more time at Sam.

—o0o—

Sam wasn’t familiar with the words that Ruby muttered over the spilled blood. They weren’t any that he had heard before, they sounded guttural and wrong. Wolves didn’t often use spells. Magic was innate and wielded through will, anything that needed to call on an outside force seemed suspect to a wolf, not that this was often thought about by the common Pack member, but Ruby could only have learnt this spell from Yellow Eyes.

The chanting went on for a very long time, and as the bitch continued Sam felt the fire that had been simmering in his blood start to seep into his mind. 

The next time Ruby approached he didn’t back away. He remained standing where he was, his four paws rooted to the earth. He had intended to move but then he got distracted. He was sure there was a reason why he had been keeping her at a distance but he couldn’t remember what it might be, or why he would even want to. She just smelled so good. It was the best thing he had ever smelt, it reminded him of Dean…

Dean’s name caused him to pause and the fog in his mind lifted just a little. A nagging worry crept in - he had almost gripped the elusive thought, when a hot length of broad wetness licked over his cock.

Sam’s mind dropped back into the thick clouds as he shuddered in pleasure. He cocked one leg letting the warm heat and wetness cover his hot skin. It felt so good, he had been so desperate for this for so long. Why hadn’t he done this sooner?

He needed more. Or what he really needed was the ready and willing bitch his nose told him was near and desperate to mate. 

Losing the last threads of his self restraint Sam spun blindly, his paws hit warm muscle and he scrambled onto the back of the black wolf. He was clumsy, mounting sloppily, mindlessly thrusting before he was even in position.

Finally! Ruby wiggled within tight grip of the massive young wolf’s forepaws, pleased that she would at last be able to quench the fire within her own blood. She didn’t even care that Sam was slobbering on her as he panted desperately over her shoulder, humping against her haunches. All she needed was for him to slow down long enough to let her get her hips lined up...

Dean was snarling with rage as he burst into the cave.

—o0o—

_Earlier that morning…_

Dean woke slowly in the morning light and for a few brief moments he was confused why everything was wrong. Sammy’s weight wasn’t curled against his side, the thick grass of the den was wet and muddy and his entire body was one giant throb of pain. Lord of the Morning, had he fallen off a cliff or something?

The memory of the night before hit him like another fall from a cliff, this one twice as tall. Ignoring the searing agony that ripped through his body he threw himself forward, howling for Sam. And smashed straight into the Binding with enough force to fling him from his paws.

The wolf lay in the mud, a ball of twice as much agony but now shockingly clear awake. He took stock of his injuries. His head was still cloudy and there was a faint buzzing in his ears. There were several deep bite marks littered across sides that still oozed sluggishly but nothing life threatening. His back left hamstring was strained and the gash down his haunch had caused the muscle to seize. Oh and he felt like he had fallen off a cliff. (The slash across his nose wasn’t even worth mentioning, too many other small slash marks covering his body to count.)

He ignored the pain for now. There was nothing that wouldn’t heal. What he needed to process was everything that had happened at the trial last night. And more importantly: what had become of his little brother.

“Max!” Dean snarled looking around for the guard. He didn’t see him, instead he found Ansam and a second wolf he didn’t know well. (Andy and Ansam had the same sire, but while Andy was a good enough wolf, Ansam was litter-mates with Max and creeped Dean out almost as much), “Ansam!” At least the wolf hadn’t been one of the guards from last night who had taken Dean down so brutally, he felt only mildly pissed with him on general principle, “where is Sam? What happened at the end of the trial?”

Ansam turned lazily to his companion, “Do you think it’s talking to us?” He said snidely, flicking his ears and snapping at the air as if a fly had buzzed past. “As if good decent wolves would talk to Were shit.” They laughed loudly, pointedly turning their backs on the pit.

Nonplussed at their reaction, Dean pulled himself away from the edge of the ring, although he allowed himself to snarl quietly as he limped in pain. 

Speaking of ‘Weres’; his eyes found the slave where it was sleeping in a ball, it’s bloody skin tinged blue and it’s breathing labored. At the pathetic sight of it Dean was suddenly too tired to even take his frustrations out on the hateful beast, although just maybe he was starting to have some sympathy for the way the Pack treated it.

He curled himself into his own tight ball, once again at the center of the mud and tried not to put any pressure on his wounds. He needed to find out when their sentences were to be carried out and he needed to find a way to get to Sammy.

—o0o—

Max and Jake arrived at the pit at noon, they relieved Ansam and the other but paid no attention to Dean. 

Dean didn’t care if they wanted to ignore him, he had spent the morning thinking.

It was a startling realization to be treated like a slave. To go from being someone who had opinions and a voice to being treated like a … a _human_. It felt wrong that his world could crumble to nothing so suddenly and so thoroughly. But if they thought he was just going to roll over and take it like he was some Were-Slave, they were wrong.

He hadn’t heard where Sam was to be held or when his own sentence would be carried out (he had been too busy being unconscious) so first he needed to find out what had happened to his brother. Then he was going to do something about it. He was still working on that last bit but they didn’t need to know that. 

Dean called out to Max, demanding to know what had happened to Sam. The muddy wolf ignored him, but Dean wasn’t a quitter. He kept calling. Eventually Max threw a couple of snide comments to Jack about Were shit but when Dean still persisted he finally turned around, snarling. 

Max threatened to beat Dean unconscious if that was the only way to silence him. Yet being a sadistic little shit, the guard didn’t stop himself from delivering a parting blow: “I wouldn’t be so concerned with little Sammy if I was you, he isn’t the one who will be Bound in the center of the pack grounds at sunset and torn limb from limb. If I was you I’d enjoy the afternoon. You won’t be seeing another one.”

Mostly what Dean took from that was that he had a time limit for saving his brother. He didn’t allow himself to think about impending death because it just wasn’t going to happen. He would escape and save Sam and everything would be fine. He just needed to figure out a few more small details. (Like a plan for how to do all that.) But he did quietly remind himself to kill Max the first chance he got.

—o0o—

The Were silently watched the exchange between Max and the new wolf in his pit, well used to being ignored.

He had been disappointed to finally wake up after the Pack Leader tore out his throat. Plus the pain had been excruciating. 

He thought he vaguely remembered tumbling down the hill but he might be imagining that, he had been pretty out of it. When next he had woken properly it was to the pain of being dragged back to his pit with sharp fangs buried in his flesh. 

The rest of yesterday evening was still pretty blurry, he had been (still was) very weak. But he remembered the gold wolf had already been in his pit after he’d been dragged from the hill. Then something big had happened in the Pack at sunset and he had a pretty clear memory of waking up later that night, when guards had dragged back the unconscious wolf, torn and bloody.

The Were had never seen them treat one of their own in such a way, and he had listened carefully last night as the guards talked among themselves. He hadn’t overheard the full story but enough to know that the young wolf Sam had been caught consorting with ‘the slave’ while in human form.

The Were didn’t know the names of most of the Pack, but he knew which wolf they meant. The young wolfling was always watching him, but unlike the stray glances he got from most everyone, this Sam watched him with fascination and pity. Not that those looks caused good feelings in themselves, but the sad truth was, the Wolfling was the closest thing the Were had to a friend. Just to not see disgust in every expression was a tiny balm to him. He appreciated the young wolf.

He might be crazy, but what if this Sam had been trying to help _him_ when he got captured?

The Were had long ago lost hope, so he was almost surprised to feel it bloom in his chest for another. He hoped that Sam would be okay. And weak as he still was he wondered if there was anything he could possibly do to help.

—o0o—

“Slave!” Andy didn’t look towards the Were as he spoke, he was too fascinated by the sorry lump of fur that had once been his friend. It was strange how you could think you knew someone and be so wrong. To think that Dean, of all wolves, was a filthy human-loving pervert, right under their noses all this time. The wolf did a full body shudder, he had been friends with it, what if the Pack started thinking _he_ was into such filth? Andy shook his head, absently giving the rest his message to the slave, “You’re wanted at the Pack Leader’s den immediately.” 

The Were struggled to its feet as Andy turned away with yet another shudder. The wolf called a casual hello to Max and Jake and something about needing to find a companion to sink his cock into. A nice good upstanding wolf - he clarified hastily as he hurried off.

The slave hobbled to obey as best it could, no one watched it go.

—o0o—

Dean hadn’t come up with a plan by the time the Were returned to the pit. The day was moving on and he was very conscious that his time was running out. 

With nothing better to do he watched the creature as it crawled through the grass and into the muddy ring. It really didn’t look good, fresh blood trickling from a claw wound on its arm, the bloody punctures from fangs still visible from where it had been dragged the night before and of course the pink ruin of it’s throat slowly stitching itself back together. Its ugly, furless skin was an unattractive shade of chalk white mixed with blue.

So Dean was very surprised when rather than just collapsing on the boundary it continued to crawl until it slumped just two paces away. His lip curled in disgust as he considered whether it was worth hoisting up his aching body to move back from the repellent thing. But then the creature opened its mouth and quietly hissed, “Sssssaaaam.”

—o0o—

The Wolves thought he was retarded. He wasn’t. As a Were he didn’t have their skill with mental communication. Werewolves just spoke to one another verbally. The only time they used telepathy was during a full moon. And then communications mainly consisted of: ‘Blood!’, ‘Hunt!’, ‘Kill!’. 

He could understand what the wolves sent to him in their intricate mind speech but he had little chance of mentally sending anything back that wasn’t howled to the moon. It hadn’t mattered until now, he had only been expected to bow and obey. But for the first time he found himself needing to communicate a complex idea.

He would have to speak out loud, despite the fact that he hadn’t spoken in years, and ignoring the slightly more important fact that his voice box was in shreds. 

Wolves never vocalized words out loud, he doubted that their canine throats would be able to form the right sounds and he was sure that the very idea repulsed them, but he desperately hoped that the wolf would still be able to understand him.

Max and Jake were deep in conversation, as usual, paying no attention to a mere slave, so he crawled as close to the wolf as he dared, and breathed as quietly but as clearly as he could: “Sam!”

—o0o—

Dean could have sworn that the hiss sounded like Sam’s name and that froze him in place. He must have been imagining it though. The thing was probably hurting and begging for water or something, there was no point assigning wolf emotions to a dumb beast. He was turning its grunts and moans into whatever he wanted to hear.

“Know. Where. Sssaaaam! Undeeeersssstaaand? Nod, yesssss?”

Lord of the Fucking Morning. Those were actual fucking words. There was no doubt this time. Despite the automatic reaction that any wolf would have to the very idea of vocalising, Dean’s prejudice was forgotten as understanding came to him. The creature knew where Sam was! That was more important than anything else Dean might think or feel.

Looking quickly towards the guards to ensure that they were still ignored he crept cautiously closer to the beast, placing his head near its face. Haltingly he moved his nose up and down in an approximation of a nod. The thing seemed pleased with this.

“Sssssaaaaam. Alpha. Hiiiiillll.” It breathed almost silently. “Help. You. Go. To. Sssssaaam”

Dean eyed it doubtfully. Great. So Sam was on the Pack Leader’s hill. It was a start but it didn’t really help. Sure, the creature could leave the pit, but Dean couldn’t. The wolf had no idea what it thought it would accomplish, it could barely crawl. Apparently his doubts were obvious. Maybe the slave wasn’t as stupid as it appeared.

“Help. Killll. Maxxxxxx. You. Freeeeee. Sssssave. Ssssaaam.” Ahhhh now that made more sense. That might actually work. Max anchored his Bond. This time Dean was eager as he nodded.

“But!” The slave’s expression had turned surprisingly hard on its flat ugly face. “Musssst. Promisss. Kill. Alpha!!!”

Dean stared at it in surprise. Not that he retained any sense of loyalty to Yellow Eyes. If he got the chance to get the Alpha’s throat under his teeth, he would rip his head off without a second thought. But what surprised him was the vengeance in the slave’s face, he was definitely beginning to think he had underestimated it.

He nodded as clearly as he could.

“Ssssswear!” The creature hissed, adamant.

Dean thought about how he could prove his sincerity. Stealing himself, he lowered his head until he was eye to eye with the Were then slowly, he moved the short distance and deliberately allowed his nose to come into physical contact with the stunted point on the creature’s face. He moved back and nodded one last time. 

It seemed satisfied. Nodding solemnly it immediately turned and crawled as quietly as it could towards the edge of the pit where Max and Jake were still deep in conversation not taking any notice.

Dean didn’t know exactly how the crippled slave intended to take out a full grown and able wolf, but he pulled his paws underneath his aching body and tensed his muscles ready for anything.

He was still surprised when the Were surged to its feet and grabbed hold of Max from behind. The thing moved fast for a crippled human.

—o0o—

The Were moved fast, but it was only the surprise of its actions that allowed it to take hold of the unsuspecting guard and pull him into the pit. It wouldn’t last long in a fight. But as soon as Max was across the boundary, it let go and turned on Jake. Dean was already moving on Max. 

The stunned guard was struggling to regain his paws but Dean already had his fangs clamped in the brown fur and tore out Max’s throat between one heartbeat and the next. Wolves were fast and deadly when they needed to be, especially with unsuspecting prey.

Fresh hot blood flooded Dean’s mouth, the taste setting his heart pounding as he scrambled with his claws to rip through the open neck and detach the head. There would be no chance of the mongrel healing that. 

Max slumped dead to the ground as Dean felt the Bond around him shiver and vanish. Elation flooded him but he didn’t have time to gloat, much as he would have liked to - with the element of surprise gone the Were wasn’t doing so well. 

Jake, completely outraged that a filthy slave would dare to lay hands on a wolf, was tearing great chunks of flesh out of it. He should have just killed it rather than torturing it but he was so incensed that he hadn’t even noticed Max was dead. He would soon. That last blow he had delivered had nearly ripped the Were’s head from its shoulders.

Dean threw himself on Jake before the guard could refocus his attention and for the second time in nearly as many heart beats he buried his fangs into the vulnerable flesh under another wolf’s jaws, clamped down with all his might and reared back. The throat came away in a fountain of blood and Jake’s body hadn’t even settled to the ground before Dean was clawing his head from their shoulders.

Silence descended as Dean stood panting - the sharp smell of copper filling the air and the sound of his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

His own wounds chose that quiet moment to remind him that he had been beaten bloody and unconscious the night before, protesting his explosive violence. But adrenaline still surged in his veins as he waited ready, head cocked to see if the alarm would be raised.

The pack grounds remained quiet. 

Yellow Eyes had visited the communal area earlier this morning - barely sparing the condemned wolf a glance. Most of the Pack had followed him when he had moved off towards the den area, few feeling in the mood for regular duties. Now this was probably the most deserted the communal grounds had ever been during the middle of the day. And if fate was kind they would all stay at the dens (or wherever they were) licking the Alpha’s paws until Dean had a chance to grab Sammy and escape.

The fact that there were no immediate howls of outrage was a good start. Dean turned to congratulate the Were, the creature had done well. 

However the creature lay unmoving in a spreading pool of blood - its head attached only by the thinnest scrap of skin and it’s eyes were glazed and dull. 

Dean didn’t need to get any closer to see that it wasn’t breathing. There was no chance a healthy wolf would heal from that injury, let alone an emaciated Were. 

The creature’s death brought an unexpected tinge of regret to the wolf. He wouldn’t have thought to ever feel anything for something as evil and disgusting as a human-natured beast. But it had helped him. It had set him free to save Sam even though it must have known it couldn’t win in a fight against wolf guards. He had no idea why it would do something so… selfless.

Dean pushed his thoughts away, he didn’t have time to sit in the grass and study his feelings. He needed to get to Sammy, everything else could wait.

There was no point trying to hide the bodies, the pit was soaked in blood, the arterial spray covering the grass in all directions. All he could do was pray to the Lord of the Morning that he made it to Sam before anyone else came along.

As fast as he could Dean set out, stalking across the communal grounds. He kept low and to thick clumps of grasses, ignoring the trails that the wolves had worn back and forth across the scrub-land. He placed each paw silently despite the pain of his wounds, his senses alert for danger every step of the way - the archetypal wolf at hunt. 

He reached the Pack Leader’s hill undiscovered.

Scrambling up the slope was easy, he just crouched and ran fast, hoping that his luck still held. Seemed to be good so far. Still he was kinda surprised to make the top and find no guards. He had envisioned at least two guards sitting outside of the cave - like had been left at the pit. 

Maybe, he thought as he crept across the glassy flat, he would instead find them inside the mouth of the Alpha’s den. What he didn’t expect to find was the smell of a bitch in heat.

That made absolutely no sense. 

The pool of blood in the entrance was also worrying, until he smelled that it was Were. So that explained how the creature had known where Sam was. It didn’t explain the scent of bitch or the lack of guards.

Dean pressed his belly to the ground and crawled cautiously into the cave, ready for anything, every muscle tense.

… The sight of Sam mounting Ruby sort of made sense; considering the overwhelming stench of Heat. But what first shocked and then enraged the wolf, was the blank glazed expression in Sam’s eyes.

The life force that was fundamentally Sam - the joy and vibrancy, the passion and rage; the things that made the young wolf who he was - were absent. 

The dead Were had held more life in his detached expression than Sam did right now - and Sam was supposedly not just alive but having sex.

Dean didn’t know who had done what to his little brother, but he was going to rip out more then their fucking throats.

He leapt into the cave snarling in rage.

—o0o—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for non con: Ruby uses a spell to cloud Sam's mind and entice him into having sex.  
> Unable to resist the spell any longer Sam is just trying to mount her when Dean arrives!


	10. Chapter 10

—o0o—

**CHAPTER 10**

Sam had his forepaws tightly gripped around the wiggling ball of fur - the source of the wondrous scent filling the cave, and the fire in his blood. His hips thrust without conscious thought desperately trying to sink into warm wet heat, to tie in a perfect vice that would draw the heat from his veins and the seed from his cock. 

Nothing else existed but that desire. That is, nothing else until a voice that he knew better than his own sounded a massive snarl and a force came crashing into his side, sending him tumbling tail over snout.

Dean!

The clouds around the young wolf’s mind parted just enough for him to see his brother, bloody and covered in mud and claw marks, tearing at the black wolf in front of him.

Why… why would Dean do that? Sam would share, couldn't Dean smell how wonderful Ruby smelt? 

Another thought was looming through the fog in Sam’s mind but he couldn’t quite catch it yet, maybe Dean could help, if only Ruby would calm down…

Ruby wasn’t calming down. She lunged for Dean as he stumbled, his hind leg giving way. Approaching from the side, she sank her fangs into the thick gold ruff. Her intent was clear; she wasn’t aiming for dominance she was trying to reach his throat, aiming to kill.

Sam’s paws were already moving, fog or no fog, he would not stand by a second time and watch as anyone hurt his brother. He hit the bitch from the side knocking her away from Dean and rolling her into her back. He didn’t pause as he sank his massive fangs in under her chin and pulled with all his might.

Ruby seemed surprised as she looked up, blood gushing from her ruined throat, Sam didn’t give her a chance to do anything more than look though, he brought his claws down and finished the kill. Nobody hurt his Dean and got away with it.

The cave was enveloped in silence as the rage drained from Sam and he stared at the black wolf laying dead on the ground. The smell of her heat was still overwhelming even through the scent of fresh blood - the last few moments were a jumble in his mind.

Dean groaned as he rose to his paws.

DEAN! Sam immediately turned from the body and threw himself into his brother, his nose desperately searching out each and every wound, a whine in his throat, as he tried to lick them clean all at once. He couldn’t help but at the same time rolling himself in the bloody fur, trying to bury himself in the scent he had been parted from in what felt like forever.

Dean grunted again as the younger wolf bowled into him, wiggling and whining as they tumbled to the ground. The pup was unable to hold still between licking at Dean’s wounds and trying to simultaneously crawl inside him. The older wolf huffed out a laugh through the pain, but he made no attempt to stop his brother. The deadness in Sam’s eyes when Dean had entered the cave had scared him to the bone. A little bit of pain was well worth seeing him alive and well. 

It took longer than he’d care to admit, for him to realize Sam wasn’t just wiggling, he was... humping.

The Wolfling had crept up so that he almost lay over his brother and was gently grinding his still hard cock into Dean’s haunches, whining piteously low in his throat. Dean had to turn his head to meet Sam’s eyes. The growing blankness he saw instantly set him worrying once again. 

The older wolf made his tone as lighthearted as he could to cover his fear: “Sammy I know you’re happy to see me an’ all, but we really don’t have time for this right now.”

Sam paused as Dean’s voice made itself at home in his mind. The fog had begun to thicken and he hadn’t noticed. Dean’s scent laid atop the lingering aroma of heat and fresh blood was far too seductive. Especially since there was no place he would rather be than with his brother.

Sam tried to explain, not realizing that he was still thrusting absently, “It’s… some kind of spell Dean. I can’t seem to stop…” he trailed off, sinking his nose into Dean’s ruff and hauling him in tight with both forepaws, 

“Sam!” 

“Sorry.” With great effort the young wolf stilled his hips, his grasp easing just a fraction. “Sorry… I um… need to be able to think...”

Through the swampy mud within his mind, Sam saw an image, a flashback of the Were and how it had seemed unaffected by Ruby’s heat.

An idea wormed its way through the thickness but Sam needed to act fast before it slipped away again. “Don’t freak out Dean,” he said, reluctantly backing away from the source of everything good and bright in the world, “I’m gonna try…”

It was a struggle to find the well of power within him, it was so difficult to concentrate, Dean really did smell one hundred times better than Ruby. But eventually the young wolf made a frantic grab for the ball of light within his chest, almost giddy with relief when he had a hold of it. Releasing it felt more natural this time, like taking the first breath of pure air after drowning. 

The magic coursed merrily through his body, overwriting the sensation of rut and washing his veins clean with a tingle. He felt the moment that it reached his paws and his fur slipped away...

And found himself furless on his hands and knees in the center of the cave. In that exact moment he also felt his sense of the Pack snap back into place around him. The relief was indescribable. As if for the first time in days he saw the sun.

“Sam what the fuck?!” 

Sam was already shifting back. His clear mind now racing with exactly how much trouble they were in and how little time they had. He shook his long chestnut fur back into place and turned to face his brother.

“The Were,” he explained quickly, “he wasn’t affected by Ruby’s heat so I thought maybe humans don’t…” not only did they not have time to get into that but it seemed like Dean was about to interrupt him concerning the Were and Sam knew they didn’t have time for Dean's prejudice. “Any way,” he continued hurriedly, throwing in a grin, “it broke Yellow Eyes’ Bond on me. Must have been tied to my physical self. But I have no idea if he will have felt it break so we need to get out of here right now!”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, putting aside his thoughts of the dead Were for now, “I had to kill Max and Jake to escape.” Neither of them looked at Ruby’s cooling body but both added her to the list of dead. This time the Pack wouldn’t wait for an official meeting when they caught them, they would be torn apart on the spot.

“We will probably have to fight, Sammy.” 

The mood became heavy and somber. Dean had already adopted an Us and Them attitude. If you had asked him before yesterday if he would ever turn on the Pack, his response would have been: Never. But as he stood here now, asked to choose between his brother and wolves who had abandoned him without a second thought, it was no contest. He would choose Sam every time and the rest of the world could rot.

But his heart ached for his little brother who would have to fight against wolves he had called friends. Who would have to face impossible odds, kill or be killed. And their chances weren’t looking good. It was a miracle the alarms weren’t already howling out.

“I can’t promise we will make it...” words trailed off, Dean’s expression stricken as he looked into his brother’s eyes and saw the life the young wolf would never get to live. The life that Dean had failed to ensure for him.

A wave of grief smothered Sam, but for his own part it wasn't because of some hypothetical future, it was because he knew that this was all his fault. He had placed Dean in this position, causing him to be ostracized from the Pack, causing him to have to kill for him. Sam would give anything to take it back, to make sure that Dean wouldn’t suffer because of his choices. If his choices got them both killed Sam would forever carry Dean’s death on his conscience into Purgatory.

All Sam could do now was offer what little reassurance he could. “It’s okay Dean...” Quietly he leant in, laying his head over his brother’s shoulder, taking time they didn’t have to say what must be said.

Noses nuzzled into the thick fur beneath the other’s ears, their eyes slipped closed. The world outside fell away and all that remained was warmth, the scent of brotherhood and the bright feeling of their minds pressed as closely as their bodies. “...whatever happens. We do it together. You and me. To the end.”

“Always Sammy.” The response was equally quiet but it was more solid than the foundations of the earth.

—o0o—

For the whole day, Jess had wandered the Pack grounds, alone and dejected. She had been sure to make herself scarce when she saw the Alpha begin his tour. She didn’t want to speak with anyone. Plenty had taken the opportunity last night to praise her for her ‘moving’ testimony and she wasn’t feeling good about any of it. She had spent the night at her den, watching the stars turn overhead and replaying the meeting in her mind. Over and over again. She hadn’t slept.

In the light of day, she still didn’t know what else she could have said last night. But if she had done the right thing then why has she spent the whole day feeling so bad?

It was rare for a wolf to want to be alone, but today that was all Jess wanted. She was currently avoiding everyone, but thankfully most of the Pack seemed to be busy with the Alpha. She appreciated the small mercies the Lord of the Morning sent.

It was late afternoon when Jess noticed that another wolf was crossing the communal grounds. She was already turning away when she saw that it was Dean. 

His golden fur was covered in mud and blood, and not all of it his - if her cautious inhale was anything to go by. He was also moving as stealthily as if sneaking up on a herd of timid deer.

Her first thought was to call the alarm. Dean was a prisoner condemned to death and he was stalking the Pack grounds covered in blood. 

What stopped her was the thought of the Dean she knew. An echo of his words from the night before. The wolf she knew _wasn’t_ some perverse human sympathizer capable of anything. She had heard the testimony at the trial and given the expected response but her mind still refused to believe it. She _did_ know him and none of this felt right.

She found herself following silently. She could stalk just as well as he, if not better, her slighter, uninjured frame moving with confidence. If the other wolf had evil intent she would be able to howl quick enough and leap into attack, but she needed to see it with her own eyes before her mind would accept it.

When Dean reached the bottom of the Pack Leader’s hill and raced straight up it, Jess ducked under a thicket of bushes. He was going for Sam! For long moments indecision kept the blonde wolf hidden. The wind rustled the leaves in the trees and a hawk called from high in the azure sky, but no cry of alarm was raised from the top. To the pounding of her heart Jess paced out the distance in her mind. Dean had been gone for more than enough time to gain the summit, and encounter any guards. But still nothing, not even the rush of a wolf to tell the Pack Leader the prisoner had been re-apprehended. 

She gathered up her courage. With a quick look around the blond wolf sprinted up the hill herself. She still had no idea what she would actually do at the top, no idea what she expected to find, but she was committed now. She would find out the truth one way or another.

At the top the grass on the flat was empty. Her only option was the den at the rear and Dean’s scent led that way. 

She approached without making a noise, her senses on full alert. Yet she hadn’t reached the entrance when she heard the somber conversation. It took her only moments to recognize Sam and Dean’s voices in her mind.

_“...whatever happens. We do it together. You and me. To the end.”_

_“Always Sammy.”_

Jess’ heart broke. And that certainly wasn’t what she had been expecting. It wasn’t so much the words in her mind that shattered her, it was the love and acceptance that threaded through the thoughts. 

She rarely received more from a sending then words and basic feelings, but now she saw a clear image of the two brothers in her mind, not their physical selves but the bright shining core that was just them, wrapped one about the other. The tenderness between them was overwhelming. It was a purer love than anything she had ever known within the great amorphous amalgamation that was Pack. 

Pack was duty and security, comfort and even companionship, but it wasn’t _love_. Discouraged from parental, sibling or even permanent romantic bonds, any wolf was willing to die in service to the pack, but no single wolf was worth more than the whole.

The concept of a wolf willing to die for another _specifically_ , to give their all and their everything, purely for that _one_? She had never contemplated such a thing before and found herself envious of the two wolves facing death and willing to pace forward together just as long as the other was by their side - envious the same way that a flower was of the sun, basking in its glory and unable to turn its face away from a warmth it could never reach.

She had been looking for the truth and she had found it. The wolf had no need to make up her mind, her paws were already moving.

—o0o—

“You both need to get out of Pack Lands immediately.”

The world intruded upon Sam and Dean and startled them abruptly apart, bodies coiling as they dropped into a defensive crouches. They moved as one to face the threat.

Dean cursed himself for not paying attention and then cursed himself doubly when he saw who it was. His lip crept up to show fangs as his green eyes blazed with fury. The betrayal from Jess had cut him the deepest. Of all the wolves in the Pack, hers was the wound that would fester in his heart the longest.

Sam however, didn’t know what to think about Jess. He had felt the same sense of betrayal at the trial but he also had an inkling how deeply the pressure of conformity ran through the Pack. He had spent much of his life observing different behavior and pondering the reasons for why wolves acted the way they did. He hadn’t been as surprised as Dean when she had fallen back on the words they had been taught as pups.

Sam had also noticed that she was talking to them about escape rather than howling an alarm. Especially since she just now noticed Ruby’s body and an edge of fear had filled her posture - but she still hadn’t called out.

“You want to help us?” he asked over Dean’s silent glower before Jess could have second thoughts.

“Yes.” The blonde wolf resolutely looked away from the dead bitch and earnestly back to Dean. Regret showed in her eyes but she didn’t mention the night before. She also didn’t mention Ruby. “Whatever I can do, I will do it.”

Sam took her at her word. Jess was a good and honorable wolf, she would never think to lie… or be suspected of such.

He had the beginnings of a plan. 

“Jess, we do need to get out of Pack Lands quickly. Dean might have… er…” she had to know, “He had to kill Max and Jake while escaping.” 

Jess inhaled sharply but she still didn’t turn on them. Sam had no idea what had changed her mind so thoroughly towards helping them but he thanked The Lord of The Morning for whatever it was. “I think I know a way we can manage it without having to claw a path through the Pack. Do you think you could lead everyone in the wrong direction, and let us sneak away unfollowed?”

“Maybe,” she replied, slowly, thinking it through. She would be the obvious choice to lead a tracking party, but she couldn’t see how she could lead them in the wrong direction, “How can I track you while going in the wrong direction? Will you circle back afterwards and go another way?”

“No.” He could feel Jess’ confusion. “You will just have to tell the Pack we have gone another way.”

Today seemed to be full of odd revelations. Not only had she redefined the concept of love, but she now found herself standing next to the dead body of a Pack-mate while talking about helping two condemned human-sympathizers to escape justice, by lying. It should have been beyond comprehension. Any good wolf would have called the alarm long before now. But strangely her convictions still weren’t wavering. Mostly she was just curious. “How do I lie?”

Sam smiled at her, “Jess,” he said firmly and directly to her, “You know how Dean and I think. We would want to escape using Small River to cover our tracks. We would head downstream to hide our scent and then likely move west towards the ocean.” He smirked as he turned to Dean, “Perhaps I might change my mind later.” 

It seemed the young wolf had learnt something from Yellow Eyes after all. Dean wasn’t pleased. His lip was curling again like he’d accidentally bitten into a slug.

“It’s wrong Sammy,” the older wolf muttered, “lying is so...” … _human_. He couldn’t finish the thought, not after everything that had happened these last two days. But it didn’t mean he was happy about the situation. 

Still it was the only plan they had.

It took Jess a few heartbeats to understand that Sam was in fact telling her that they would _not_ be heading west to the ocean, but she realized that if she thought only about the facts of what he’d said and ignored his last sentence, she could repeat the words truthfully enough.

She grinned at him and for the briefest of moments the last few days fell away and Sam was again the bright young wolf she had hoped to choose for a mating partner.

“You may be in danger,” he warned her and the moment shattered, “If the Pack ever found out you had helped us…” he seemed to waver, “You know you could always come with us instead?”

Despite how quickly her life had changed in just a few moments, the thought of being outcast from the Pack left Jess cold. It might not be the love she had seen between the brothers but Pack was all that she knew. She lowered her ears and gently shook out her fur as she smiled at her friend. “I can’t,” she said quietly, “and as for the rest I leave my fate to the Lord of the Morning’s mercy.”

She lifted her head then and grinned a wide cocky grin that would have put Dean to shame on his best days. “Besides, someone needs to lead the hunt and save your sorry tails.”

They had already spent too long making plans. Every moment they remained undiscovered was a miracle. With a last look that she knew was probably goodbye forever, Jess turned away from her friends and ran.

—o0o—

Jess must have raised the alarm as soon as she reached the slave pit. Moments after her howl sounded the communal ground had filled with the echo of running wolves.

Sam and Dean crept from the cave and down the rear of the Pack Leader’s hill. The back face of the hill was overgrown with brambles and strewn with rocks - it was never used, but that fact meant it provided useful cover for a pair of fugitives. 

Spurred on by need and a grim sense of urgency they persevered down the tortuous trail until they reached the wooded land below.

Once off the hill, with the sound of the pack gathering in the opposite direction, the two slunk silently away from the communal grounds. 

The trickiest part of the immediate plan would be crossing the sentry lines. But it seemed the commotion had drawn even those wolves. 

Dean felt the ridiculous urge to reprimand them for leaving their posts. But he also was grateful that they had, for they slipped past the line and sped away without notice. 

It was now early evening, the sun just beginning to set on what would have been Dean’s last day on earth and silent as shadows the brothers left the central Pack grounds and moved out into the open forest.

Behind them cries of outrage rang through the trees. Jess did an excellent job of causing a distraction, exclaiming vehemently and at length over Jake and Max's death.

The Pack howled in outrage and worked itself into a fury but no one followed in their direction. True to her word, once every wolf was howling for blood, Jess led the mob out along the edge of the Pack grounds and into Small River heading west towards the ocean.

Dean followed Sam, he was the wolf with the plan, and moving swiftly he soon noticed that they were taking the same trail as the deer hunt from the start last spring. (It seemed like so long ago now.)

Big Rock River lay well north of the Pack grounds and it was fed by the mountains to the East. The current was strong and true to its name, the river was filled with rocks and rapids but if they were careful they would be able to use it as cover to follow it up to its source. Wolf Territory stopped at the mountain range. If they could cross the eastern peaks and see what lay beyond maybe they could actually escape the Pack.

Sammy was a genius.

It took half the night but they made good time to the river, the sound of rushing water spurring them on as they neared it. The two wolves slipped like shadows into the rapid flow letting it wash away their trail and moved swiftly east.

Throughout the rest of the night that followed, their eyes and ears scanned the darkness - straining over the splash of water and the sound of wind in the trees, alert for the slightest hint of danger. Sam spread his senses as wide as he could dreading to feel the heavy threat of the Alpha at the edge of his mind. But it never came. Instead he basked in the bright feel of his brother at his side, even as they fled for their lives. He knew that eventually they would be followed. Wolves were excellent trackers and tenacious. But for this moment they were both alive and together. And that meant hope.

When the night came to its end and the sun rose the next morning the brothers left the river. Turning towards the golden light of the new day they began the steady climb up into the mountains.

From far in the distance forest behind them came the faintest echo of the howling of wolves.

—o0o—


	11. Chapter 11

—o0o—

 **EPILOGUE**

_The first day of tomorrow_

The cave that Sam and Dean had found to rest in was small. It was perched precariously on the side of a steep stone slope but from the mouth Dean could see past the lower foothills and back towards their old home, the green rolling forests stretching down towards the ocean he might never see again. The sky above them was a riot of orange and gold as the sun set on their first day of freedom.

So far there had been no sign of pursuit and he was more glad then he could say to be alive for now and pressed fast to his brother’s side.

They wouldn’t stay in the cave all night, there would be no time for relaxing until the mountains were behind them, but they could steal a brief rest.

The gold wolf lay on his belly, his forepaws laid out in front of him, his head held high as he kept watch. Sam was burrowed tight against his side, the shaggy chestnut fur rising and falling as the wolfling snored lightly. 

Sam snuffled in his sleep, his paws twitching. And from his mind Dean caught the faint sound of the flutter of wings. His brother was dreaming. 

Dean hoped that it was a good dream but with their future uncertain before them, and their past hard on their trail, he feared that it wasn’t. 

He threw one paw over Sammy’s back and pulled his little brother in closer, dropping his chin over the broad strong shoulder. The young wolf quietened immediately, turning himself deeper into the warmth as the word “Dean” slipped from his mind like a sigh and within moments he drifted peacefully into deep slumber.

Dean’s green eyes didn’t close though. They remained open and watchful. 

It was strange how much their lives had changed in just two days. They had gone from being Pack, to being Outcasts. Friends they had known all their lives had abandoned them without question. Most of them anyway - he spared a thought for Jess hoping that she remained safe.

They had killed and would be killed if they were caught. They would never be able to go back to life they had known. From now on it would be just the two of them against the world.

But strangely it wasn’t these thoughts that kept his eyes open and fixed on the night. They would be fine as long as they were together, him and Sam.

It wasn’t the fear of pursuit or even the dangers of unknown territory, that kept the wolf from sleep.

There was another thought in his mind that refused to let him rest. 

He hadn’t forgotten the promise he had made to the Were. 

He had sworn to kill Yellow Eyes, not just escape him. One day he would find a way to keep his promise, for both Sam’s sake and for the human-natured Were who had sacrificed his life to save two wolves who had been his captors. 

A slave whose name, Dean now realized, he had never even known.

—o0o—

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Reader 😄  
> Thank you very much for sticking with me!  
> This is the longest story I have written yet.  
> I very much hope you enjoyed the story and I would love to hear what you think. 🤗


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